


lavender lads

by demiboyharrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Everybody's LGBT, Lots of music talk, Multi, Nonbinary Louis, Period Typical Attitudes, Punk Louis, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 09:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiboyharrie/pseuds/demiboyharrie
Summary: The decade of greed and excess intwined the fate of two queer people. With mainstream society against them, and a handful of friends by their side, Harry and Louis navigate what it means to exist outside the cisheteronormative ideals of the 1980s.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a disclaimer here, but I took some creative licensing with the personal lives of the boys. Also there is going to be a fair amount of triggering topics in this fic, so please read the tags. Due to the nature of the 1980s, this fic will include a lot of homophobia, lesbophobia, transphobia, biphobia, and slurs. I do not feel like these characterizations represent the way that these folks actually feel. However, the eighties were not the best time for marginalized communities, and I wanted to encompass that atmosphere into this fic. I did a fair amount of research in order to write an accurate portrayal of this time period, but I was born in 1997 so if it’s wrong my bad man. 
> 
> This is in no way meant to encapsulate all of the different cultures in the eighties. Or, for that matter, even all the cultures in just the Los Angeles area. This is just meant to encompass the gay scene, the punk scene, and possibly hints of others. 
> 
> Also on the front of Louis’ gender and pronouns. They are misgendered at the beginning of the fic, because Harry is unaware of their gender and pronouns. Nonbinary genders were almost unheard of in the mainstream during the 1980s, so Louis’ friends just don’t use gendered language in reference to them.

_“Don’t be afraid of the clocks, they are our time, time has been so generous to us. We imprinted time with the sweet taste of victory. We conquered fate by meeting at a certain TIME in a certain space. We are a product of the time, therefore we give back credit where it is due: time._

_We are synchronized, now and forever._

_I love you.”_

_~Felix Gonzales-Torres_

***

#  **_2019_ **

It had been years since Harry had talked about his life during the 1980s. Though the decade held the most nostalgia for him, discussing it was difficult. Anytime his nieces and nephews brought it up, he skirted the issue, changing the subject. As they grew older, they became more persistent. Always asking why their delightful Uncle Harry still wasn’t dating anyone. He remained diligent in his refusal to talk about it, and eventually they stopped asking.

Over time it’d slowly become easier to think about that time in his life and all of the dreams he’d had. With the support of his partner, Harry had planned a future with a picket fence, and a gaggle of children; the classic American Dream, but more importantly, _their_ dream.

Seeing his sister get that instead was a bittersweet pain, and watching her children grow up, had been almost too painful. It was like a knife in his heart, thinking of how he and his partner had had their future robbed from them. Watching someone else live his dream was a hard pill to swallow.

His old friends from Los Angeles had invited him to his old haunt one last time. It was no longer the dingy bar it had been in its heyday, rather it had been converted into a nice restaurant. He’d decided to go, but imagining himself back in the town that had brought him to his partner was almost too much to bear.

How much could have changed in the intervening years?

Harry wasn’t sure, but as he planned his trip and booked his flight, he could feel himself remembering all the things he had tried so hard to suppress.

***

#  **_1980_ **

In the summer of 1980, Harry had just graduated high school. While most of his classmates were thinking of college and careers and starting their families, Harry had his sights set on something else. He wasn’t looking to go to college, though, he was too much of a free spirit, riding the waves of the previous generation. A misplaced flower child of sorts, with no real destination and too much love in his heart for small suburban squalor.

As he filled his beat up truck with his few belongings and prepared to head west for southern California, he reflected on the home he was leaving behind. At the time it felt like he was leaving forever; never to return to the town that had so constantly demeaned him for his differences. His homophobic hometown had never embraced his queerness. In fact, he’d had a hard time keeping track of all of the terrible shit he’d dealt with growing up there.

Harry had always known he was gay, it was fairly obvious to anyone who cared to look, but he could certainly recall being called a faggot way before he even knew what that word meant, or the connotation behind it. However, the young man had embraced his swishy nature. He’d grown his hair too long for his conservative step-father to approve of, borrowed his sister’s skirts, and worn his mom’s makeup.

He’d accepted himself.

But Harry had been very lucky, he thought, as he looked back on his childhood in the truck. Hindsight was of course 20/20, and he could say with absolute certainty that he’d been lucky to grow up where he had. The town had been nothing but dismissive to him, but it let him fade into the background. Standing out was dangerous, it was too much attention, and too much of a chance to get hurt.

Driving west from the only life he’d ever known, Harry was surprisingly stoic. His radio was playing the top hits, and he let Call Me by Blondie be the soundtrack to his entire trip. He softly hummed along, feeling like he was only taking a trip to the local corner store to buy his stepfather a pack of smokes.

However, the farther he got from the little shithole town, he began to feel a bit lighter. It was almost as if the weight of the unanimous hate he’d endured over the years, had magically started to shift. Those people couldn’t hurt him anymore, only he could hurt himself.

That liberating thought followed Harry as he slowly made his way across states he’d hardly known existed and into the most important years of his life.

***

By the time Harry had settled into life in the greater Los Angeles area, he had already made a niche for himself. Everything from the little apartment he shared with Liam and Zayn, a proudly out couple who had taken him under their wing, to the part time work at the local corner store was enough to make him fall in love with the city.

He’d also taken to frequenting the closest gay bar, the Black Cat Tavern. It was a staple of the gay community, and coincidently where Liam tended bar. It was a little hole in the wall place﹘like most gay bars were﹘dingy, dark places that were constantly getting raided by the cops. It certainly wasn’t anybody’s first choice. Nobody went there unless they had to, but how else was anyone supposed to meet other queers?

Despite the seedy nature of the bar, it was the only place Harry felt he could truly be himself. Nobody gave a shit that he was fem; they didn’t care that he liked getting told what to do, or that he was always more interested in giving a blowie back in the alley than getting one. If anything, they welcomed it. They were all there for the same reason: to openly live their lifestyle, to find someone to warm their bed. There was something poetic in the camaraderie of the queer people inside the Black Cat Tavern.

Before Liam had allowed Harry to go to the bar, he’d shown him the ropes for how to behave in the community, including a full course on how to pull, which was a bit of an orchestration in and of itself. One had to properly adhere to the “hanky code,” otherwise finding a suitable partner could be difficult.

In the code, it stated the different colors and ways in which a hanky can be worn to signify potential partners or certain kinks. For example, a handkerchief hanging from the back left pocket signified a top, and if it was on the right, a bottom. There were also a color code for what sort of debauched acts you were interested in performing. Liam had explained them in great detail, giving Harry a [ diagram ](https://user.xmission.com/~trevin/hanky.html) and explaining what some of the more outlandish acts to the naive boy (this had included a riveting tale of how Liam had pulled his beautiful beau, Zayn).

It had involved a mustard handkerchief and a cocktail napkin, and after hearing it, Harry could say with certainty that he knew more about his two friends sex life than he had ever wanted to.

That’s not to say Harry wasn’t extremely hard throughout the entire conversation.

Harry was, for all intents and purposes, a bottom, and because he hated the feeling of cum leaking out of his ass, he’d decided early on that he wouldn’t have sex without a condom. It wasn’t like he could get pregnant﹘not that he’d be against that at all﹘he just really despised the messy feeling it left behind. It made him feel dirty in a way that he just wasn’t a fan of.

So at the bar he wore a black and white checkered handkerchief on his right side. And for every man that had called him a twink and tried to go raw, Harry would fight back and make sure things were safe. “No glove, no love,” was Harry’s motto, one he couldn’t be talked out of.

***

Once November hit, Harry was vigilantly preparing to cast his ballot. He had been paying a bit of attention to the platforms of the different candidates, but none of the major choices were speaking to Harry. This was his first chance to get his voice out there, and he’d finally found the perfect candidate for him.

He had heard about this other ticket with a gay man and a nun. He was pretty sure it was the Socialist Party, which was looking much more promising than any of the other people running.

Liam had made fun of him, insisting that Harry had become a commie. Harry had laughed it off, unconcerned. He didn’t really care what party they were running under, because they were Harry’s perfect candidates. Plus socialism and communism weren’t really the same thing. Maybe? Harry wasn’t entirely sure, but semantics.

Harry had loaded Zayn and Liam up in Zayn’s Chevrolet Chevette, and headed to the local polling establishment. Each of them casting their ballot; none of them voting for Reagan.

They stopped at an In-N-Out on their way home, getting ready to watch the country elect their next president. Liam was gunning for Carter to have another term, but Reagan had been polling well recently, and they all had the feeling that he was going to sweep the election.

Watching the election on television wasn’t quite a new experience for Harry, but he’d never been surrounded by people who weren’t staunch religious conservatives. There was a nice sense of solidarity between Harry and his roommates, because they were in the same boat. Though they didn’t all hold the same beliefs: Zayn was a muslim, Liam was an agnostic, and Harry was an atheist, they all knew what it felt like to be considered a subspecies.

Harry was happy he’d found folks who were similar to him.

He’d grown up in such a small town where he had had to hide who he was. The older he got, the easier it was to ignore the bigots he went to school with. His older sister had got him boxing lessons in the city for a birthday and from then on he had been a fearsome competitor.

Harry had started kicking serious ass in high school, and though it ruined his permanent record, it kept him safe. No one wanted to tussle with Harry, because not only could he swing a punch, but he also wasn’t one to stop. If you came at him, you had to be prepared for him to wail on you until he either got tired, or someone stopped him. He had thanked Gemma repeatedly before she left for college, because she had probably saved his life in more ways than one.

That night the trio had sat around the television, holding hands and watching the results slowly come in. The popular vote was close, Reagan skating over Carter with 50.7 percent of the votes. It didn’t matter the margins, though. Reagan had 489 fucking electoral college votes. Carter never stood a snowball’s chance in hell.

The mood in the living room was somber, and Harry was almost positive that Zayn was crying on Liam’s shoulder. It wasn’t the results they had wanted, but thinking about the past few months, it seemed almost inevitable.

Harry couldn’t predict the future, but something in his gut was niggling. Reagan was only going to ruin the country further. He couldn’t say why or pinpoint exactly how, but he felt it: this was a bad omen.

***

After the election, things slowed down for a bit. Harry had been focusing on getting a better job in the area. They were tons of options and Harry was feeling rather overwhelmed with the sheer volume of people and places in L.A. He still loved the city, probably always would, but it was just so fucking massive. He’d grown up in a town of 3,000 or so and had never before been around so much diversity. He’d met people from all over the world, with different lifestyles and different cultures. It was a bit jarring if he was honest with himself.

Liam had been in the area for longer, and had been helping Harry pick out some different choices, but it was still too broad. He had done some work for the local bakery in his small town, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to work the earlier hours that job came with. He’d come accustomed to working the 3-11 shift and sleeping until late in the day. He would make an appearance at the bar, do some dancing, and then head to work. With no shifts on the weekends, he could fuck and drink as he pleased, and it was truly a perfect fit.

Zayn threw his two cents in as he was getting ready for his own job.

“You might as well head down to the corner bakery. I heard they’re always hiring, and plus you could more than likely get a similar shift. Like maybe 4-11?” Zayn gave Harry an encouraging smile, ruffling the man’s curls softly.

Harry sighed, unconvinced, “I’ll make the effort to go talk to the owner sometime this week after I get off work.” Zayn shot him a grin, dashing out the door to his own job.

Zayn had been working full time at a little rinky record shop downtown. He loved the place though, and he always brought Harry classic albums. Harry’s tastes ran a bit more modern, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Plus Zayn truly enjoyed sharing his finds with Harry, so it made it easier to tolerate rock records from bands that had been banned in his childhood home.

***

After listening to Zayn’s advice, and Liam’s good word as reference, Harry started working at the small bakery close to their apartment building. Harry hadn’t expected a staff full of older women, but he had easily charmed them all. They fawned over him, like he was some sort of Elvis-incarnate. It struck him as quite odd, seeing as he was gay, but these women took him in like he was their son.

It wasn’t the first time he’d worked in a bakery. Growing up, Harry hadn’t had the funds to support his fashion addiction. He’d grown up stealing Gem’s old Seventeens and had fallen in love. He’d admired Farrah Fawcett and Goldie Hawn, but couldn’t afford to buy the clothes he wanted. His mom had been making his ensembles for as long as he could remember, so as soon as he was old enough, he started working. He did part time odd jobs around town, before getting hired on at the local bakery. It was run by one of the families in the close-knit community, and he made good money.

He could still remember all the recipes and tricks he’d learned in his few years at the small business, and he was so happy to be back in the saddle again.

The smell of sugar and yeast were overwhelmingly nostalgic, and he almost missed his shitty hometown. He could remember all the good times he had working in the small bakery, and it was almost as if he’d never dealt with an almost unending stream of homophobia. Nostalgia was a potent drug, but working in this new bakery was infinitely more enjoyable than the one he’d spent his younger years at.

This bakery, however, was quite the opposite. It was a little hole in the wall place, in the gay district of Los Angeles, run by the sweetest two ladies Harry had ever met. By the time he’d been there a week, he walked in on Marge and Kat canoodling in the kitchen.

Harry certainly hadn’t expected the two, small, elderly women to be lesbians, but it made him feel right at home. And if he got to bring home the surplus stock at the end of his shift, none of his roommates seemed to mind.

***

After his short time in L.A. Harry had become a bit of a pro at pulling exceptionally handsome tops. Not all of them were the most domineering, especially in the way Harry craved when he was beating off on Li’s couch, teeth biting down on his fist and trying to hold in his moans, but they got the job done.

One particular night﹘December eighth, to be exact﹘Harry was sitting at the bar alone. He had his go to hankie tucked into his right pocket, as he sipped some fruity cocktail Liam had made for him.

Harry’s day had been particularly difficult, and try as he might, he found himself feeling rather lackadaisical. He’d had a horrible day to begin with; his manager had rung him at nine in the fucking morning to tell him to get his ass in. And on his day off too. Poor Harry was still nursing a wicked hangover, and by the time he’d ended his shift he just wanted to curl up on the couch and sleep. Once he’d made it back home, he’d made himself some tea and wrapped himself like a burrito in the duvet.

Turning on the television had been the next logical choice to unwind from a shitty day, but the news was on, and he saw the headline that had totally decimated him. John Lennon, famous musician from the Beatles and Harry’s longtime idol, had been assassinated by some crazy motherfucker.

And wasn’t that just the perfect way to continue his perfect day.

Needless to say, Liam had walked into the flat sometime later to an inconsolable Harry and demanded that he come to the bar, if only to get utterly smashed, though getting someone to fuck Harry through his grief also seemed like a halfway decent endeavor.

As he slowly swayed his lengthy legs to and fro, he noticed a group of punks entering the bar. His eyes immediately followed the boy in the leather jacket. Harry was a bit taller than him, really only just a hairsbreadth above him. His skin glimmered golden under the soft bar lights, and he had this air about him, as though he could kick the shit out of anyone in the bar, and still be just as handsome.

The birds flocking him were all very different from each other, but very similar at the same time. He watched as they paired off toward the dance floor, despite the shit all the men were throwing them. Liam had shouted a few insults their way, and laughed as he did, so Harry joined in cajoling the dykes. How dare they come into the bar and ruin the atmosphere? It was bad enough the trannies were let in, but lesbians too?

At least the trannies had cocks.

Harry turned back toward where he’d last seen the Adonis punk daddy, but couldn’t see him. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and so he turned to his left to see none other than God himself, wearing a small rainbow bracelet on his delicate wrist. Harry could feel his lips parting, his jaw falling to the floor. Zayn had complained about how unsubtle Harry was when it came to attraction, and looking back, he was certainly right. The poor boy looked like he would fling himself into the sun, if only this vision before him asked.

The look on this man’s face was harsh and unyielding; Harry felt scorched by the burning intensity of this man’s rage. He immediately shut his mouth, while quirking a questioning eyebrow at the decidedly pissed beauty.

“Heard you talking shit about my friends over there.” The man’s grip on Harry’s shoulder was vice-like, and he could feel an altercation on the horizon. Harry was definitely not a fighter, really more of a pacifist to be quite honest. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t throwdown with this punk. He’d learned his lesson in school. If you wanted to keep people off your back, you just had to kick the shit out of one person. Send a message to whoever else might want to beat on you. Harry was a might bit wider than the punk, but he wasn’t sure he could win this fight. He would definitely be wearing battle scars for awhile.

“I don’t appreciate people giving my friends a hard time, asshole. They’ve got it hard enough as it is,” he pulls Harry up like he’s gonna drag him out to the back. Which had Harry quite spooked, so he quickly tried to think of how he could possibly charm his way out of an ass whooping.

“Hey, man, listen,” he tried to level with him. “I didn’t mean any harm. It’s not like everyone else in the fuckin’ bar wasn’t yelling at those dykes. I mean you get it, right? We gay guys have got to stick together, or the lesbians’ll take over.” The guys face became even harder and Harry had just enough time to realize that that was definitely not the right fucking answer and he was undoubtedly going to get the shit knocked out of him.

“First of all, dickhead, I’m not a fuckin’ gay guy, because I’m not a fuckin’ guy. Second of all, shitstick, those broads are my friends, and just because you elitist queers think it’s okay to shit on them, doesn’t mean it is. Wastoids like you need to be taught some motherfucking manners.” The not-boy started pushing Harry towards the doors, and just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Another hand grabbed Harry pulling him back harshly, like a ragdoll.

“Fuck off, Louis, Harry didn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t know any better, cut him some fuckin’ slack.” Liam. Liam had come to save Harry, and if he didn’t already have Zayn, he’d definitely be getting thank you head.

The angry punk let go of Harry, shaking out his wrist delicately. Harry quickly turned toward Liam, hiding himself in his neck. It looked rather comical, as Harry practically folded himself up as to appear smaller. Liam ran his hand up and down Harry’s back, laughing a little bit at the cowering boy.

“Just a fucking magnet for trouble aren’t you, Styles?” Liam slowly pulled the boy from his embrace, and dragged him into the storeroom. Harry leaned against the wall, a sulky pout prominently displayed on his face.

“I didn’t know, Leema. I was just doing what everyone else was.” Liam placed his hand lightly on Harry’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

“Lou’s a good person, Haz. Those are their friends, and they feel very strongly about protecting those girls.”

Harry’s face scrunched up in thought. “Why are you saying they and their, Liam? I thought that he was a boy?” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Today had been such a horrible day, and now he was getting a second scolding from Liam. Haz was too tired for this, and probably wasn’t even going to get fucked tonight.

“Haz, man, Lou doesn’t like being called a girl or a guy. You have to use gender neutral language in reference to them. Louis uses those pronouns because they make them feel more comfortable.” Harry sighed. He’d already blew it with the totally bodacious person, who looked like they could easily plow Haz into next week. Harry put his head on Liam’s shoulder and made a disgruntled noise.

“How come nobody else caught shit for talking about those chicks? You were talking a big game, and so was everyone else at the bar. But I’m the one who gets in trouble?” Liam ran his long fingers soothingly through Harry’s mane of hair.

“Babe, it’s because Louis’ never met you before. Everyone else does the ribbing good naturedly; no hard feelings. We all love Lou and the girls, and they know that. You’re fresh meat, and Lou wanted to teach you a lesson.” Liam pulled Harry into a hug, trying to explain Louis’s outburst.

“Lou’s been coming to this bar since they were a wee thing; back before I even had a job here. They know everyone who comes to this bar, and they know that no one actually harbours ill will to those girls.” Liam pulled Harry’s head up so he could really cement his point.

“Louis was really just pissed about how flippant you were being, and the fact that you called them a guy. That’s always a good way to start a fight with Lou.”

Liam pulled Harry out of the storeroom, and back to his barstool, before getting back to work behind the bar. Harry let out a longsuffering sigh and subtly glanced around the room looking for Louis the beautiful person who’d already stolen Harry’s heart, or perhaps just his dick. Either way, Harry was quite smitten with the punk whose ass looked good enough to eat. He found them out on the dancefloor with some big muscle boy.

When Louis turned their back to Harry, he saw a grey hanky in their left pocket. Harry’s jeans immediately felt tighter in the crotch at the thought of Louis tying him up and having their way with him. Harry shivered and began looking for someone to go home with.

There had to be someone in the bar willing to fuck Harry.

***

A few days later, Harry had gotten out of his funk.

He’d decided that he wanted to apologize to the four girls from the bar, and try to befriend Louis. There was something about them that made Harry’s heart race. They were obviously very loyal, and domineering.

Plus Harry had seen that bondage top hanky they’d been wearing in their extraordinarily tight jeans. He had ended that night beating off to the thought of Louis tying him up and using him for their own pleasure. Luckily his roommates weren’t home, because as interested as Harry was in exhibitionism, he could only assume Liam and Zayn were not. At least as far as he was aware they weren’t. Of course after learning how they got together, Harry really wouldn’t put anything past them.

He had the day off, and he’d decided to go all out for the bar that night. Harry had spent the day grooming in the bathroom, and by the time Liam was leaving for his shift, he’d picked out his outfit as well.

Looking in the sad excuse of a closet, Harry had pulled out his tightest, white crop top, and his smallest pair of jean shorts. Harry glanced at the shoe rack at the bottom of his closet, with his hip cocked out. After weighing the pros and cons of high heels and Vans, Harry chose the latter. He’d save his go-to sex outfit once he’d gotten Louis’ forgiveness, and attention.

He couldn’t waste those heels on just anybody.

Looking at himself in the mirror, with his toned legs, soft hips, and rouged lips, Harry had to admit he looked bangin’.

***

Louis was out at the bar with Perrie and Leigh-Anne. They had begged them to go to the shitty, gay bar and they couldn’t ever say no to a pouty Pezza. She had everyone wrapped around her finger, and Lou could never deny her anything. Plus Leigh-Anne would’ve given them hell afterwards if they’d begged off.

It was still fairly early, when Lou caught sight of that beautiful asshole who’d pissed them off the week before. The boy was butter in his tiny, jean shorts, and Louis could just imagine how those doughy lovehandles would feel in their grip. As the guy walked to the bar and chatted with Liam, Louis continued to watch his every move. Did they feel like a creep? Oh, totally. Was it worth it? Hell yeah. Louis saw the hanky in the boy’s right pocket, and smirked.

_A bottom. Ace._

Honestly, Louis hadn’t been this excited about a twink since they’d been with Niall, but this fresh meat could definitely give Niall a run for his money.

Pinching his arm, Louis scolded himself. _You are not going to fuck him, he’s an asshole. Let it go, Lou; just let him go._ Louis was not drunk enough to deal with this twink, or his glorious fucking thighs. _Wow, those thighs look like they wanna go for a ride._  Louis shook their head, trying to dislodge those dirty thoughts from their brain.

Louis quickly made their way to the dance floor, in search of a substitute for the sinful man at the bar. Not that anyone in the bar could come close to the sinewy creature clouding Louis’ thoughts, but, like, a person can try, right?

Grabbing hold of a tall, muscular boy, they tried to take their mind, and eyes, off of Liam’s newest hanger-on. However, just as they were getting distracted, the boy walked over to Pez and Leigh. Louis immediately ditched the Rocky Horror look-alike in favor of protecting their friends.

The boy’s words drifted in and out as Louis briskly walked closer to the group in their tight leather jeans.

“...No, no that was all me...” Louis’s eyes squinted in distaste as they reached the huddled trio. The boyish figure towered over both of the young women. He wasn’t too much taller than Louis, though, really it was more the fluffy mound of hair that made him look so tall. And, honestly that was entirely too unfair that this handsome man was also taller than them and willowy. _Too bad he’s literally an asshole, Louis._

“...So sorry, again, I really﹘”

“Fuck off, scumbag. You better watch yourself, because good ol’ Liam isn’t gonna be able to save your sorry ass this time.” Louis stepped in between their girls and the human embodiment of every sexual fantasy that Louis had ever had.

The boy backed up timidly, raising his arms up and out with his palms facing toward Louis. Louis’s fists were clenched tightly at their side, and they were getting ready to take a swing when they felt soft pressure on their shoulder. Turning quickly, they noticed Perrie’s small hand was the cause. Louis’ eyes narrowed at Pez as she forcefully pulled them back away from the dopey fool in front of them.

“Lou Lou, calm down. Harry, here, was just apologizing for being a jackass to us the other day. Leigh-Anne and I have accepted his apology, so if you could be the bigger person, take a chill pill, and not punch his fuckin’ lights out that would be bitchin’, Louis.” Perrie increased the pressure on their shoulder as she spoke, and finally Louis unclenched their fists, while turning toward Harry.

Louis smiled at Perrie, easily removing their shoulder from her well-manicured clutches.

“Can I have a word, Harry, was it?” Harry smiled easily, like a dog who had just been called a good boy, and easily followed the leather clad person a few feet away.

Once they had a good distance between them and the girls, Louis stopped walking. With a smile on their face, Louis grabbed Harry’s arms rather tightly. Harry’s smile turned uneasy quite quickly, with the uncomfortable pressure on his arms, and the manic grin gracing the face of the Greek god before him.

“Let me tell you something, Curly. Pezza and Leigh may have forgiven you, but if you want to get on my good side you’re going to have to work harder to earn it. You can’t just put on your ‘shucks guys’ act, and expect me to bend to your every whim.” Louis released Harry, who now very closely resembled a kicked puppy. He slowly walked back to the bar, where Liam was glaring at Louis. Louis flipped him the bird before returning to their girls.

“Honestly, Louis, you’re fucking trippin’. Harry seems like a righteous dude. Why were you such a dick to him?” Louis sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose and breathing deeply.

“Leigh-Anne, I love you, babe, but that guy’s a grade-a asshole. Excuse the fuck out of me for having standards in who I’m friends with.” She rolled her eyes at them, and Louis sighed longsufferingly. “I’m going home. Have enough fun for me too.” They waved their goodbyes before Louis left the bar.

They were decidedly angry that that tall ass twink had ruined their night, but they couldn’t deny how horny they felt after grabbing the boy and manhandling him in front of the entire club. Louis could definitely get used to that. _Not if you keep being an ass to him._ Louis could hear Pez’s voice in their head, chastising as always.

***

After Louis had stormed from the bar, like a bat out of hell, Harry decided to continue his earlier conversation with Perrie and Leigh-Anne.

He was soon coming to realize that these girls were actually very sweet, and it made him feel rather shitty thinking about his earlier behavior.

Both girls looked stunning, and had he been straight, Harry would have undoubtedly hit on them. Perrie’s hair was curled and teased so far into the air that every woman in the room was jealous. She looked aloof and stunningly cold like an expensive diamond. A lit cigarette was placed elegantly between her fingers, and she exuded an aura of controlled chaos. She was like antifreeze, sweet to the taste, but deadly to ingest.

Leigh-Anne, who Harry assumed was her gal pal, was not quite as punk rocker chic. With a perfectly picked afro, circa the early ‘70s, Leigh-Anne evoked a carefree vibe that Harry found a kinship with. He’d always felt more like a free love stoner, listening to the Mamas and the Papas on vinyl, smoking too much weed, and avoiding meat.

More disco than convent hippie, Leigh-Anne was a flashback to the glamor of the previous decade. However, she seemed right at home in the grimey bar, and in her slinky black dress. She was older than Harry, by at least five years, and as he would later learn was a big fan of punk music, even though she rarely dressed the part.

Perrie - with her wild hair, and leather ensemble that looked almost painted on and entirely too sinful - seemed punk enough for the both of them.

The duo had accepted Harry’s remorseful apologies, and had insisted he buy a round to make it even. Amicable as always, he lead them to the bar, commanding Liam’s attention.

“Drinks are on me, Li, so take these lovely ladies orders.” He winked at them, ever the flirt, and always the charmer. Finally Harry ordered himself a double shot of bourbon, feeling a little worse for the wear after tonight’s altercation.

He had thought for sure the beautiful blue-eyed vixen would melt in the palm of his hand. He’d done everything right, even dressed the part, and yet he was still drinking at the bar alone.

And no, the lesbians in his company did not count. He would not ask either of them to dick him down.

He had a bit of pride left.

After Harry was sufficiently sloppy, and Liam had rung Zayn to jet his ass home, Perrie extended an invitation. She said that she, Leigh-Anne, and their roommates were having a get together on Christmas Eve, and thought he might like to join. With his arms sufficiently noodle-y, and his cheeks rouged from drinking, he leaned forward kissing Perrie on the cheek. It left a light print of lipstick, and she laughed easily kissing him on his cheek as well. Matching lip prints in place, he agreed to join them, and promised to be on his best behavior.

***

Christmas Eve rolled around, and Harry phoned his ‘rents. His mom answered, thankfully, and they caught up on the time he’d been away. Everything was fine on both ends, and after Harry hung up, he felt lighter.

He truly loved his mother to death, she was his biggest cheerleader, and chatting with her made his mood soar.

After refilling his mug of eggnog and bourbon, he sat back down to call Gemma. She was the family golden child; had gotten into NYU and was on the pre-med track. He couldn’t begrudge her, though, she was just as lovely as his mother, with just an extra punch of sass.

She filled him in on her fast-paced university life, and how her boyfriend was treating her. She was on the honor roll once again, and was already looking into med schools.

In turn, Harry told her about all the friends he’d made, and as he glossed over Louis, she stopped him. It was almost as if she could detect the infatuation in his voice, forcing him to recount every detail about the mysterious stranger.

Harry, of course, shared what little he knew, and Gemma, bless her heart, desperately tried to give her brother tips on attracting Louis. It was rather laughable listening to his sister spout off cosmo advice for straight couples, and Harry had a very hard time maintaining his composure.

Finally, Gemma had to start getting ready for a party, and so Harry wished her love and said goodbye.

Glancing down at himself, and then towards the wall clock, Harry decided he should probably start getting ready as well. After placing his empty cup in the sink, Harry began to sort out his outfit. He had given little thought to what he should wear since being invited. He’d spoken to Pezza about it recently, and she had suggested something casual, while still turning heads.

Looking around his wardrobe, Harry had the perfect outfit in mind.

***

Knocking on the door of the apartment, Harry felt rather nervous. He’d already fucked up his last first impression, and he desperately wanted to avoid a repeat of that situation.

The door swung inwards, uncovering the last person Harry thought he would see.

“Louis?” Harry said tilting his head ever so slightly to the side like a confused puppy. Louis’ expression darkened, and they quickly slammed the door.

Standing there fish-mouthed, Harry was thoroughly shocked. Not only was Louis here at the party that Perrie had invited him to, but they had just slammed the door right in his face. Harry felt like he was gonna ralph.

Just as he began to turn away from the threshold, the door once again opened.

“Oh, Sugar,” Perrie stepped out of the apartment, pulling the much taller boy into a soft hug. “Come on you pitiful thing, let’s get you in here. There’s a party to join!”

After easing out of the hug, Perrie pushed Harry ahead of her, softly rubbing the dip between his shoulder blades.

Harry was soon carted around the small three bedroom apartment; Perrie introducing him to Jesy and Jade, who were spiking a punch bowl. Jesy poured him a cup, thrusting it into his hand encouragingly. She winked conspiratorially at him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“I put a bit extra in there for you; you’ll need it to put up with Lou.” He laughed in agreement as Jade flicked her in the ear.

“Take a red, Jesy. Leave Louis alone. Poor kid didn’t even know Pezza had invited Harry here. You can’t blame them for being a little pissed off.” Jade gave Harry a sad smile, patting his shoulder softly. “Don’t take it personally, baby. Louis’ had a rough life. It took Leigh-Anne an entire year to gain their trust when she started seeing Perrie. They’re just very overprotective.”

Harry nodded along, feeling uncharacteristically sheepish with Louis in the apartment. It was obvious that Louis wasn’t happy that Harry had inserted himself into their group of friends.

They were livid in fact.

***

 _How dare Pezza invite him to my birthday party?_ Louis was so enraged all they could see was red. They had a bottle of rum hiding in their bedroom, and had holed up in there as soon as they’d shut the door.

Taking another swig from the bottle, Louis pulled out the middle drawer on his bedstand. Hidden in the back behind a large amount of underwear and lube was a box with Louis’ stash. It only held weed now, but when they were younger it was laced with harder drugs like speed and acid. Louis wasn’t a big fan of the manic feeling it gave them, and preferred to mellow out with weed.

Efficiently rolling up a joint, Louis lit up and took a long drag. The smoke cloaked their lungs, coating them for a few long moments, before Louis exhaled releasing the smoke from their nose like an angry dragon.

Louis was beyond pissed, but they couldn’t deny how magnetic Harry was. He looked decidedly sinful in unreasonably tight jeans. They looked painted on for fuck’s sakes, and left nothing to the imagination. Louis had practically choked on their own spit just from the brief glimpse of Harry’s bulging cock in those jeans. The bastard wasn’t even hard! The universe was a bitch for making Louis suffer like this on their birthday.

The shirt was a flimsy black piece, with only a handful of buttons actually clasped. Louis had been able to take in the boy’s soft milky skin and hard nipples. Louis couldn’t actually fathom why someone would wear such breezy clothing in December, but Harry seemed comfortable as ever in so little. He had on a pair of soft looking booties with the slightest hint of a heel. Louis had never felt particularly drawn to femininity, but when they’d seen Harry, long curls and all, they couldn’t help but feel like they had been missing out all these years.

Harry was like a soft-core porn fantasy come to life, and Louis wasn’t sure how to handle that revelation.

It was like Pezza was purposely trying to ruin their birthday, by giving them a present they weren’t allowed to ever open. _Truly a sadistic streak in that girl_ , Louis thought. Taking another hit from the joint, letting the soft tendrils of smoke lull them into a well-needed high, Louis could feel the tension in their body melting away. Well, not all the tension, as they now had quite a bit between their legs, begging for attention. Thinking about Harry’s glorious bod probably wasn’t helping the matter.

Louis groaned, this was a new low even for them. Hiding in their room, getting high, with a raging hard-on? While their friends celebrated their birthday right outside their door? Pathetic, honestly. Louis rubbed their free hand over their face, tapping the joint on the ashtray that they kept on their bedside table. Taking another few long drags, Louis was left with the roach, tossing it into the ashtray easily.

Getting high always made Louis horny, so the boner really wasn’t much of a surprise. The odd zip of excitement at how easy it would be to get caught, though? That was _quite_ the surprise.

With a delightful high licking their tummy, Louis began to pet over their insistent cock. It was warm and hard in their pants, and it seemed almost a crime to keep it trapped there. The more they teased themself, the harder it got to keep quiet. Their skin was flushed a rosy hue from the high and the thought of Harry walking in only made it worse.

Tossing their head to the side, they began to moan into their pillow. Being quiet had never been one of Louis’ strong suits especially when it came to their dick. Before they could get carried away and cum in their jeans, they made the effort to unzip their fly and shimmy them down their thighs.

Fishing their dick out of their briefs, Louis let out a wounded sound, almost like someone had punched them in the gut. Shoving their face back into their pillow, Louis began pumping their cock slowly. It was a teasing pace, that left them bucking for more friction. With every upstroke they twisted the head harshly, precum trailing down their cockhead. The downstrokes were marked by Louis thrusting up into their tightly clenched fist. It probably would have been uncomfortable if they weren’t tingling all over from their high.

After a few minutes of that punishingly slow stroking, Louis heard the deep rich sound of Harry speaking. It sounded close like he was coming near, and that spurned Louis on. They increased their pace, breathing soft high moans into their pillow. Their cock seemed to harden further at the thought of getting caught. Louis had never been so turned on by someone catching him masturbating, but something about Harry being the one to see, made them let out a high-pitched whine.

Louis had been too high to bother with lube, and the harsh drag of skin on skin was just on the right edge of pain and pleasure. They felt as if they were floating, untethered, and slightly unreal. Louis felt as if the only thing keeping them from completely floating to the ceiling, was their hand pulling their dick harshly.

They’d begun to tug harshly on their cock as they heard footsteps coming toward the hallway leading to their room. A low voice was softly singing along to whatever was playing back in the living room. _Harry?_ Louis let out a soft whine, half choked in their throat, as another sharp tug to their cock brought them even closer to the edge.

Louis had never considered themself an exhibitionist, and yet, here they were on the edge of cumming just from the sheer proximity of Harry. They didn’t even like him, he was a rotten bastard, a really sexy, hot, hot bastard. A really sexy bastard that they would kill to be plowing into right now. Louis groaned again at the thought of fucking that Amazonian beauty less than 10 feet away. He was so close, Louis could practically feel his eyes on them, slowly grazing over their body.

They were so close, and being able to hear Harry meandering outside was just the push Louis needed to get off. Louis was on the verge of crying. They had been beating off for so long, and despite how good it felt, with their high softly licking their bones, they still weren’t quite there.

It was frustrating.

Especially because Louis had already been frustrated when they’d hid away in their room.

Just as Louis began to cry wholeheartedly into their pillow, they heard Harry shout a question into the living room. Something about a bathroom, perhaps? Louis wasn’t sure, and didn’t really care to be completely honest.

However, the thought that at any moment that choice stud could enter the room, and see Louis like this was enough for them to feel a tingling in their gut. Toes clenching, Louis felt the blood rushing in their ears. With one last pull, Louis was flying, cock spurting cum across their rumpled duvet.

Still riding both highs, Louis easily missed the sound of their door latching shut.

***

Harry had to practically shove his fist into his mouth to stop him from groaning at the site before him. He’d had to take a piss after a few glasses of punch, and Jesy had given him directions to the guest bathroom. Evidently, it was also Louis’ bathroom. Unfortunately, Harry was shit at directions, and as he opened the door he thought led to the bathroom, he was met with quite the surprise.

Laid out on their bed was Louis. All Harry could really see was the back of them. Their head was covered in cinnamon-colored hair, and their tee shirt was lightly sticking to the sweaty skin of their back. However, Harry would recognize the tell-tale signs of yanking it anywhere. Louis’ back was rising and falling quickly, as if the breath was being punched from them. Their hand was moving lightning fast, and Harry could almost feel how close they had to be.

After a few seconds, Harry heard a high-pitched wail, as Louis shuddered through their orgasm. Feeling himself getting hard, Harry quickly shut the bedroom door, before rushing down the hall to the actual bathroom.

***

Once Harry had dealt with his own raging hard-on, he went back to the party. His skin was a bit rosy, and his cheeks were blotchy, but if anyone planned to call him on it, he’d already prepared the excuse of extreme diarrhea. Luckily, no one seemed concerned, as all the women were flocked around Louis, who looked extraordinary for having just cum all over their bed.

And by extraordinary, Harry meant that they seemed rather nonchalant for having just beat off during a party. Let the record show that Harry was thoroughly impressed.

Leigh-Anne beckoned Harry over with a long manicured finger, “Come on, Harry. We were just getting ready to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Louis.” Harry scurried over to the kitchen table with the others trailing ahead.

Louis was perched at the head of the table with a medium-sized chocolate cake, and there was an assortment of candles burning on it. Everyone else was sitting around the tables sides, so Harry sat down at the other end of the table, trying not to look directly at Louis. Harry was almost positive that if he looked them in the eye, he would start blushing and vaguely resemble a school-girl with a crush.

Not that Harry didn’t absolutely have a crush on the prickly cutie across the table, because he totally did. It was just that he did _not_ need it to be super fucking obvious to everyone in the entire state. Though judging by how Jade had spoken to him earlier, it was probably painfully clear to the women who were closest to Louis. Though Louis was either none the wiser, or doing their best to squash it out of the unwanted suitor.

Once they had sung to Louis, they blew out the candles, and Perrie began pulling the candles from the cake.

As Jesy was cutting the cake into even squares, Harry opened his big mouth.

“What’d ya wish for, Louis?” He chanced a look at them, hoping that his flush wouldn’t give him away.

Sending a cold look across the table, Louis glared at Harry.

“If I told you it wouldn’t come true, numbnuts, everybody knows that.” Louis rolled their eyes picking up their fork and taking a bite of their cake.

Harry shrugged, mimicking Louis, and trying the birthday cake.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I never did believe in that superstitious bull, but if you’re too chicken to share...” Harry drifted his sentence off, trying to goad them.

Harry had been pulling this schtick since he was a child, tricking Gemma into telling him her wish, and then watching her freak out; because her wish wouldn’t come true if she told him. He’d always been a bit of a shit, and he never really did grow out of it.

“I’m not going to tell you,” Louis said sniffing their nose in disgust.

Jesy laughed, nudging Harry with her sharp elbow. “Nice try, stud, Louis’ smarter than they look!”

With an indignant huff, Louis tossed the remains of their cake at both Harry and Jesy.

“Fuck off, skanks.”

Overall the birthday party was great fun, and Harry felt like he and Louis had made a bit of progress in the friendship department. There was still quite a bit of groundwork for Harry to set out for future sex, but overall things seemed more likely than they had earlier in the month.

After receiving cheek kisses and hugs from the chicks, and the bird from Louis, Harry headed back to his own apartment, and if he had another shower wank to the image of Louis coming that was no one’s business but his own.

 


	2. Chapter 2

#  **_1981_ **

It was finally the new year, a fresh chapter in Harry’s life. Not only was he finally out of small, homophobic hometown, but he’d also created a space for himself in L.A. Never in his life had he had so many friends. He was too used to macho butch boys pushing him into lockers, and girls avoiding him like the pariah he was to them. 

The past year, however, Harry had more friends than he knew what to do with, though he wasn’t as close to all of them as he’d like to be. He was still barely on speaking terms with Louis, who had stolen his heart, and melted him into a warm pool of man just by glancing at him. 

Harry had finally gotten closer to the punk rock gals that he’d insulted all those weeks ago. Perrie had taken the boy under her wing, helping the other girls warm to him as well, and accidentally mentioning some part of Louis’ mysterious past. Louis was very much an enigma to Harry because they weren’t anything like Harry expected. Not the stereotypical macho man punk, nor the extraordinarily effeminate gay Harry had been exposed to in the scene. 

He’d gathered that Louis had experienced their fair share of traumatic experiences during their childhood, but that their homelife had been rather pleasant. Perrie had mentioned that they had to take a call at the phone booth down the block from their apartment, and that it was a monthly occurrence. Harry wasn’t sure who Louis was calling but he assumed they had to be fairly important for a long standing monthly date. 

Despite his best detective work, this was all that Harry had been able to deduce about Louis. However, that hadn’t deterred him. Harry wasn’t giving up on understanding them; Louis was too good a mystery to give up on.

Needless to say, Harry was very glad he was ringing in the new year with his friends at the bar, and drinking enough to feel it in the morning. Technically speaking, he wasn’t allowed to drink alcohol because he wasn’t 21, but Liam wasn’t opposed to breaking the rules for a friend. Besides anytime the cops busted the place, it wasn’t underage drinking that was on their minds. It wasn’t really illegal to be gay anymore, but most cops weren’t too concerned with proper procedure. Usually after a few months of radio silence, the pigs would bust into the Black Cat Tavern and arrest as many fags as they could. Easy pickings, and all that. Luckily, Harry hadn’t been picked up yet, somehow managing to escape during the fray. 

As the year was closing in on them, Harry had a tequila-induced epiphany. He quickly located his roommate, Zayn, and wrapped his long, lanky arms around the petite boy. He was seated at the bar, ordering a round of shots for their entire crew. Liam had gotten the night off, and was celebrating with his boys. Zayn turned his head ever so slightly, taking in Harry’s face in close proximity. 

“What’s the 411, babe?” Zayn asked, while lightly petting the curling fluff attached to the other boy’s head. 

“I want to run something by you, Zee. I’ve got an idea about what I want for my birthday, but I’m not entirely sure you’ll be stoked about it.” Harry replied, hiding his head in Zayn’s neck. Zayn laughed and pulled the clingy boy onto the stool next to him.

“Well, lay it on me, Haz. Don’t be a Joanie, just spill.” Harry glanced down at his lap, where his hands were currently wringing themselves in apprehension. 

“This is a weird request, yeah? But, I was wondering if you and Liam would fuck me for my birthday?” He glanced up at Zayn through his eyelashes, doing his best to not just flee the scene and spend tomorrow pretending he was too drunk to remember his faux pas. Zayn opened his mouth to reply, but Harry cut him off quickly.

“Like just a one time thing. I promise I don’t want to steal your boyfriend, Zayn. I just know that you guys could give me what I really want? I mean I’ve heard enough about your sex life, that I think we’d all be really compatible. And I really trust you guys to not hurt me. I mean you don’t have to, and I totally understand if we can’t be friends after﹘”

“Harry, it’s cool, take a deep breath. I don’t mind at all, and I’ll totally talk it over with Liam. If I can convince him, then we can absolutely give you that for your birthday.” Zayn smiled at Harry, lightly patting him on the thigh to calm him down. “Have another shot, babe, you look like you could use it.” Harry laughed and quickly took the shot, his mouth puckering just slightly as the liquor burned it’s way down.

The rest of the night was devoted to getting blackout drunk, and ringing in the new year. Harry got his new year’s kiss from some muscleboy in tight jeans, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was Louis. He was almost positive he’d fucked that guy in the ass, which wasn’t the normal position Harry took. Not that Harry wasn’t down to top occasionally, but it was never as satisfying as getting pounded from behind by a strong man. Really and truly, nothing could top that. 

Once Harry had made it back to his apartment, after a long, long walk of shame, he found Liam cooking breakfast at the stove. Harry quickly ran to the bathroom for a quick shower, to wash off the remnants of the night before. On his way, he caught Zayn leaving the bedroom. The boy winked at Harry, mouthing something about how he was going to talk to Liam. Harry gave him the ‘okay’ hand sign and entered the bathroom.

Really and truly, he hoped that Zayn would be able to talk Liam into a threesome because Harry had big plans for what he wanted to happen. He wasn’t sure that Zayn would be interested in switching up his usual role, but Harry hoped they’d be willing to give him exactly what he wanted. He was going to be the birthday boy after all. 

Harry kept himself rather preoccupied in the shower, trying to quickly wash up so he could sneak in some good old fashioned “me” time. His thoughts ran away from him, as he rubbed shampoo into his soaking wet hair. At first it was merely thoughts of what he wanted to happen for his nineteenth birthday, but quickly evolved into thoughts of the spitfire punk that had been haunting his thoughts since their dramatic meeting.

Tugging lightly on the ends of his long hair, he felt his cock hardening against his thigh. The thoughts of how dominant and strong Louis had been that night in addition to the bit of pain were enough to turn Harry on. Trying to suppress a moan, he pulled harder, this time from the roots. His knees buckled ever so slightly, and he quickly washed the shampoo out of his mane.

He definitely didn’t need to get shampoo in his eyes while jerking off in the shower. Zayn would never let him hear the end of it, if he found out.

Leaning against the shower wall, Harry wrapped his large hand around his length, imagining that it was Louis pulling it fast and harshly. Every few strokes he would twist his wrist just enough to leave him breathless and shuddery. He could almost feel Louis’ rough breaths tickling his neck, while he moved his left hand back to his clenching hole. He lightly circled his finger around the puckered muscle; the pressure just enough to tease. After a few more tugs, Harry slowly pushed his middle finger into his waiting hole. He didn’t have any lube in the shower, but he could feel himself edging close to cumming just from the sensation of something in his ass.

Harry imagined Louis whispering in his ear about how he was a good boy, the best boy. That he was so pretty, Louis’ beautiful little boy. With his eyes closed, and the shower pelting him with warm water it was easy to succumb to the phantom lover he’d imagined. One final tug to his cock, and Harry was splattering the shower floor with cum.

After he’d worked himself through his orgasm, Harry carefully removed his finger from his ass before washing his hands and making sure all of his mess had made it down the drain.

***

Harry leaned on the wall by the kitchen entrance, trying to eavesdrop on his roommates’ conversation. He definitely did not want to walk in if Zayn was working his magic on Liam. He could hear out some muffled words, but none that he could make out. Rather than stick around and possibly get caught, Harry decided to go sit on the couch and watch a little television before Liam finished cooking.

After a few sitcoms, Zayn and Liam walked out of the kitchen with pancakes. Harry turned off the television before joining his friends at the table. He filled a plate for himself, smothering his pancakes in butter and syrup.

Breakfast was rather tense. Harry couldn’t keep still constantly bouncing his legs and drumming his fingers on the table. Zayn looked slightly miffed as if he’d been cut off while driving. Liam, however, looked shell-shocked, like he’d seen a ghost while cooking in the kitchen.

Harry forwent discussing his birthday with the boys, and decided he would confront Zayn later when they were alone.

***

After a few days of waiting patiently, Harry cornered Zayn. Liam had left for the bar a few hours prior, and Harry knew this was the perfect moment to bring up the threesome.

“Hey, Zaynie. How are things going with you and Liam?” Harry asked, aiming for subtle, and missing the mark entirely.

“Liam is about 50 percent uncomfortable with the arrangement, and 50 percent turned on and into it.” Zayn replied a bit of laughter injected into his tone.

Harry frowned a bit, trying to look pitiful enough to get Zayn to work harder. He pulled the smaller man into a hug pushing his head into Zayn’s neck, while making obnoxiously loud whines, trying his best to force Zayn to put more effort into the arrangement.

“Please, please, please, Zayn! Come  _ on _ , I know you’d be down to fuck me.” Harry said while softly thrusting into the other boy’s bony hip.

Zayn let out a loud guffaw, before pushing Harry off of him.

“Everyone always says that Liam looks like an overgrown puppy, but to be quite frank, you  _ are _ an overgrown puppy. Damn, Harry, control yourself.” Zayn said rolling his eyes at the other man.

Harry frowned, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Fine, if you aren’t going to help me more than this, then I’m going to go after Liam myself.” And with that, Harry stalked away, quickly locating a pen and paper pad.

“I’m gonna turn him on so much, he won’t want to say no.” Harry muttered outlining how much time he had to get what he wanted.

***

It was Zayn’s birthday, and Liam insisted they go to the bar. Harry was on board, but Zayn was rather lukewarm to the idea. He went along with it, a fake grin plastered on his face. He was rather introverted, so Harry assumed he’d hoped for a quiet night in. Liam, however, was more interested in getting Zayn drunk. Getting drunk always broke Zayn out of his shell.

The bar was not very crowded, and Harry recognized a few regulars, but no one he wanted to mingle with. There wasn’t really anyone he wanted to fuck either.  Well, aside from Zayn and Liam, and it was still on the fence whether that was going to happen or not. A tragedy, truly.

It wasn’t even really that he wanted to fuck them in particular? Rather he wanted to have a threesome at least once in his life and this felt like the time to do it. Plus he could trust Liam and Zayn with his life, that much had already been proven over his time in L.A. They’d be nice to him, and take care of him. It wouldn’t be one of those quick, dirty fucks. Not that Harry didn’t enjoy a dirty fuck, he totally did, he just wanted this to be a bit more special.

Harry had definitely not had enough to drink in order to hit on Liam. Not that he hadn’t before or wouldn’t again. But play flirting and real flirting were two completely different things. Harry would flirt with Marge in the bakery kitchen, but that was way different from trying to flirt seriously with someone he might want to fuck.

Making his way to the bar, Harry ordered a few shots with a chaser. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right. Throwing the shots back with only a small grimace, Harry turned to Liam.

“Have I ever told you how handsome you are, Liam?” Harry asked, his fingers walking across the other man’s cut bicep. A syrupy smile danced across Harry’s face as he leaned closer into Liam’s space, hoping to make his message clear.

Liam’s eyes narrowed, quickly flicking to the line of empty shot glasses on the bar in front of Harry, before returning to the man addressing him.

“Think you might have had a bit too much to drink there, man,” his free arm gesturing to the shot glasses. “Thought you had your eyes on, Tommo.”

Harry shrugged noncommittally, “I think that I haven’t had enough to drink, to be frank.” He motioned for another round, still staring at Liam. “I do, Liam dearest, does that mean I can’t compliment my oldest friend?”

Liam looked thoughtful for a moment, as if mulling over Harry’s point with great fervor.

“I guess not, but that doesn’t really explain anything.” Liam replied with a confused tilt to his head. He looked like a puppy, and Harry couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward once again, placing a wet kiss onto Liam’s scruff-covered cheek.

Harry flitted away, smirking at the soft smile he’d left on the other man’s face.

He quickly reached the dancefloor, softly grabbing onto Zayn’s arm, turning him around with ease. Zayn glanced back, making eye contact with Harry.  Zayn leaned back into Harry, pushing his backside flush to Harry’s front. He looked over to the bar, making solid eye contact with his boyfriend. Zayn rolled his hips, firmly pressed against Harry’s half-mast cock, maintaining his lover’s gaze. Liam’s eyebrows quirked, his mouth parting in bafflement.

Laughing giddily, Harry pushed forward into Zayn, allowing his hands to run softly against the smaller man’s sides. He barely even touched him, a feather-light pressure against silky fabric, but he could see Liam’s expression changing.

He looked a tad bit more unhappy than he had before as he watched Zayn and Harry dance. So, because Harry could be quite a shit, he leaned in towards Zayn’s ear, and whisper-shouted into it.

“How much longer you think he’s gonna last?” Harry asked, trying to look as seductive as possible to piss off Liam. Zayn giggled a bit turning around in Harry’s grip.

“Mmm, probably not much longer,” he sighed, pulling back from Harry easily. “I’ll go tame the beast, we’ll reconvene tomorrow when he’s tired. Child’s play.” Zayn winked at Harry, making his way back to Liam, already soothingly patting his arm.

***

Harry woke feeling rather fuzzy, with a mouth full of cotton, and buckling knees.

After his conversation with Zayn, Harry had endeavored to lay off the alcohol. He really didn’t want a hangover, when he was trying to get fucked. It just wasn’t conducive, and the threat of vomit was too big a deterrent.

Luckily, Harry had sobered up during the night, and only felt a bit groggy from staying up too late.

As he got out of bed, he pulled on some boxers, trying not to get too antsy. Zayn had said he would come get Harry when Liam was ready, but Harry was impatient on the best of days, and he desperately wanted to get started.

He could feel his thoughts trailing to what the day had in store for him. He was rather excited, seeing as he was getting his birthday present a month in advance.

By the time Zayn had entered Harry’s room, the other man was already hard and leaking. Harry had a light flush of color on the top of his cheekbones, and his hair was in disarray. Zayn giggled at how debauched he already looked, and held his hands out to pull the taller boy up. Harry’s face was almost manic in excitement.

He’d been dreaming about getting fucked by Liam since he first met the bartender. Liam was a lumberjack of a man, and though Harry had always had a soft spot for domineering twinks, Liam could dom with the best of them. Of course Harry’s desire to get dicked down didn’t change when he was introduced to Liam’s partner. Zayn was also a stunning man; his hair feathery soft, his lips plush, and his body tight. He was the definition of a twink, but he was much, much too submissive to push Harry’s buttons.

Together though? Together they were the perfect dynamic duo to make Harry’s dreams of a threesome come true.

Zayn began to lead Harry into the hallway, slowly speaking as he went. 

“He’s a bit nervous about this. Had to blow him extra hard to shut him up, but I think he’ll do it. Seemed real into it last night, pounded the shit out of me when I mentioned it.”

Harry guffawed, his laugh echoing down the hallway as they approached the master bedroom. He could feel his dick flagging a bit as they got closer. He couldn’t say he wasn’t a teensy bit nervous of how Liam was going to react, but he waited patiently as Zayn opened the door. 

“Zayn, baby, you can’t leave halfway through sucking me. It’s just bad form.” Liam muttered, pulling his forearm off of his face. He glanced quickly to the door, catching Harry peeking around the door jamb. He quickly scrambled to cover up his dick, a shocked look on his face. “What the fuck, Harry?”

Harry pulled his head back away from the door, looking sheepishly at Zayn. He winked at him, and pulled him into the bedroom. 

“Leeyum, we talked about this. Don’t you want to help me give Harry his birthday gift?” 

With a put-upon sigh, Liam beckoned the boys forward. He sat up easily, still covered by the thin quilt on the bed.

“I suppose that a birthday gift  _ could _ be arranged.” Liam replied, stroking Zayn’s brief clad hip. “What did you have in mind, Harry?”

Harry felt himself flush as Liam turned his warm brown eyes onto him. He had given quite a bit of thought into what he wanted to happen, but the fact that it was actually going to occur left him feeling a bit lightheaded. He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows quirking into a puzzled expression. 

“I was thinking spit-roasting?” Harry said, his face becoming more confident as he watched Zayn flounder, and Liam’s eyes bug out of his head. 

“I’m down as long as I’m the one getting blown. I do not have enough energy to top you.” Zayn replied, looking a tad less affected than he had moments before.

Liam shrugged, timidly looking at his quilt-covered crotch. “I guess that means I’m topping.”

Harry patted his cheek gently, “don’t look so eager Liam, you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

With a long groan, Liam reached out to run his fingers through Harry’s long curls. “You know you’re hot, Harry. Don’t act like I’m somehow going to ruin your self-esteem.” His grip tightened in the curls, pulling Harry back, his neck cocked at an odd angle. “Your head’s pretty big, I think maybe some humbling would do you good.” Liam spoke calmly, but his voice held a sharp edge to it, that sliced through Harry. By the time Liam had released Harry, he was practically gagging for it. 

Something about being spoken to in that way had Harry raring to go. 

“Go on, take off your boxers, the both of you.” Liam said, slipping from under the quilt and moving off the bed. He stood off to the side, watching as Harry and Zayn shimmied their hips until they were both naked. Harry watched as Liam began to stroke his cock, not having flagged at all since Harry had peeked in. 

“How do you want me,  _ sir _ ?” Harry asked, thrusting into the air. Zayn let out a soft giggle, his hand skimming along Harry’s exposed torso. 

Liam shot him a withering look, his voice gruff as he responded. “I want you on your back, gonna have Zayn keep your slick mouth busy. Teach you to talk back to me.” Liam motioned for Zayn to straddle Harry’s chest. “Come on, Harry, know you know how to keep your mouth busy.”

Harry let out a disgruntled whine, angling his head up so he could reach Zayn’s cock a bit better. It wasn’t the biggest cock he’d ever seen, slightly curved to the side and bobbing idly. It was a bit longer than his own, and he imagined it would feel like warm silk against his tongue. 

It didn’t take long before he found out, Zayn leaning forward until just the head was resting in Harry’s mouth. Harry made a soft sound before beginning to swirl his tongue around the slit. Zayn pressed even further, forcing Harry to gag on the head until he could force it past his throat. It was difficult, but the thought of actually deepthroating Zayn’s cock was gratifying. 

Harry was so preoccupied with blowing Zayn, he almost bit down in shock when Liam pressed the pad of his wet finger against his hole. Harry hummed out as Liam pressed one finger in, and Zayn’s hips thrust forward at the feeling. 

By the time Liam had worked up to three fingers, Zayn’s cock was throbbing in Harry’s mouth. He wasn’t sure if Zayn was going to be able to hold his orgasm back, but before the thought had left his mind, Liam was already stopping Zayn. 

“Turn around, can’t have you blasting off before I even stick my cock in.” Liam began to kiss Zayn, though Harry could only really get a good look at Zayn’s backside. His cock was sadly stuck between the other men, and they didn’t even have the courtesy to pull him off. 

He began to let out soft groans, whining occasionally as he was ignored. After a moment of pitiful sounds, Liam pressed two of his fingers back into Harry. It took him no time to jab into Harry’s prostate, causing him to buck up. Zayn laughed as he was momentarily propelled upwards. 

“God, H, you’re so impatient. Oughta leave you high and dry. Make you beg while I fuck Zayn.” Liam muttered, moving to grab a condom from the bedside table. 

A pitiful whine forced it’s way out of Harry’s throat, his lips pouting at Liam from where he was pinned to the bed. 

Zayn cackled wickedly, grinding figure eights into Harry’s soft stomach. 

“Please, Liam, please don’t do that. It’s my present,” he pouted, still looking as pathetic as he could manage.

“Zayn, gag that crybaby, will ya?” Liam asked, ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth. He pinched the tip before rolling it over his hard cock. 

He walked back over to the bed, hiking Harry’s gangly legs over his shoulders. Zayn turned around, winking at Harry before he thrust his cock as deeply into Harry’s mouth as he could. Harry’s eyes watered, his throat constricting around the foreign object lodged in his throat. Before he could pinch Zayn to get him out, Liam pressed his cockhead against his ass. 

Harry inhaled through his nose with minor difficulty, trying to swirl his tongue enough to get Zayn off. The man looming over him was making low moans, his hips rolling as Harry continued his pattern along the other man’s cockhead. 

It was slow going as Liam tried to bottom out in Harry. The other man was clenched so tight that Liam had to stroke his cock to relax him. It took a bit of finesse, but as soon as he rubbed over Harry’s prostate he opened up like a spring flower. 

Harry was going double time on Zayn, noises vibrating along his length from how good Liam felt inside him. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to move after this. His legs felt like jell-o around Liam’s neck, and his throat was wrecked for life. 

He couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision, though, especially when Zayn went stiff above him, Liam still pounding into him relentlessly as Zayn sloppily worked his way through his orgasm. 

After nearly choking on Zayn’s cum, the other man pulled out of his mouth, rolling off to the other side of the bed. 

Zayn pulled the discarded quilt over his bottom half, snuggling into a nearby pillow. He was pleasantly sated, and Harry couldn’t help but feel envious. Liam, taking his time, discarded the unforgiving pace in favor of slowly fucking Harry out of his mind. The soft slide over his prostate had him buzzing and tingly, but he couldn’t cum without someone rubbing him off. 

It didn’t seem like that was in the cards, though. Liam continued to ignore Harry’s cock, both of his hands planted firmly on the shaking mattress. Harry was writhing, his head shaking back and forth. 

“What’s wrong? Can’t cum?” Liam asked, one hand skirting around his hip, but not veering towards his cock.

Harry let out a pitiful cry, his hands trailing towards his cock. “Make me cum, please, Liam. Can’t cum without your help.” He wailed, his voice hiccuping as Liam picked up the pace.

“Of course,” he muttered, wrapping one hand around Harry’s cock in a loose fist. “Gotta help the birthday boy.” 

Liam continued to work Harry over, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer to his own orgasm. Harry began to thrust back into Liam’s cock and hand, trying to push himself over the edge. Finally he felt the tingling burn of his orgasm, his body clenching up as he covered himself in cum. 

He sensed more than felt Liam shudder to a halt, filling the condom with his own release. Harry made a grumbling noise pulling his legs back down to the bed. 

Before Liam could so much as pull out, Harry was drifting off to sleep, pulling Zayn towards him to cuddle up.

***

Harry wasn’t sure when he woke up, but in the moment, he could feel a warm body lying on top of his chest. He stretched out, trying to remember where he was, and why there was someone else in his bed. His eyes opened slowly, late afternoon sunlight streaming through partially closed blinds. He squinted at it, his eyes slow to adjust to the sharp yellow light. 

Finally, he was able to take in his surroundings, and he noticed the body heat was coming from Zayn. He couldn’t see Liam anywhere, and he couldn’t be sure whether he’d even napped with them. The bed was rather rumpled, blankets covering one of Zayn’s legs the rest dangling precariously off the bed. Harry had a pillow behind him, and one under his ass. Though he could not be sure of how it had gotten there. 

His stomach was rumbling, making Zayn snort in his sleep at the vibrations. With great care, Harry removed Zayn from his chest, not wanting to piss the other man off. He glanced around the room for where he had thrown his boxers. It took a bit of nosing around, but he finally found them dangling precariously off a lamp shade. 

With soft feet, Harry padded to the kitchen, he couldn’t hear the sounds of cooking, but he was in dire need of a bacon sandwich. Before he could reach his destination, he saw a lump on the dining room table.  _ Liam _ . He could see the other man’s head buried in his arms, his legs kicking viciously. 

Disturbing him seemed like a poor choice to Harry, but ignoring him in favor of making a bacon sandwich seemed like a poorer choice. 

Damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts, choosing to save his sandwich plans for later. Harry pulled out the chair across from the rough-looking Liam, taking care to scrape the chair against the floor as he did, so he wouldn’t surprise him. 

As he sat down, Liam carefully pulled his head from its hiding place. 

“Leave me alone, Harry.”

Harry quirked his head to the side, a confused pout on his face. 

“Tell Dr. Harry your problems,” he replied his voice mocking, and his eyelashes fluttering. 

Liam aimed a kick at his shin for his trouble, leaving Harry to shout. 

Harry levelled him with a glare. “I’m going to have to charge you extra for that, Mr. Payne. Very rude to go around kicking your psychiatrist.”

Liam huffed, glaring at Harry before dropping his head back onto his forearms. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled into his arms. 

It was a bit hard to understand, the words pressed against flesh, but Harry had gleaned enough syllables to guess what Liam had said. 

“Is this about you going house on my ass this morning? Because you and I both know that I’m not interested in fucking with what you and Zayn have. Just didn’t want to miss the chance to have a threesome.”

Harry reached out, running his fingers through Liam’s long hair. Soothingly scratching against his scalp, and trying not to tangle the long curls. He could sense some of the tension leaving LIam’s body, but he knew that this would not be the end of the conversation. His bacon sandwich would still have to wait. 

Liam sighed, picking his head up to face Harry, who had pulled his hand back to run through his own curls. 

“You’re right, Harry. I’m just being weird. Like I was totally down, but now I feel like, dirty.” his voice lifted at the end like a question, though he didn’t mean it to be one. 

Harry shrugged, drumming his fingers on the table. 

“Consensual sex doesn’t make you dirty, Liam. Did you enjoy it?” Harry asked, while making eye contact with the other man.

Liam shrugged, looking very sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I- um, well yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Harry replied. He was a bit confused about why Liam was having such a hard time with this. It wasn’t like the other man hadn’t done some dirty shit in the bedroom. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly made this any different. 

Liam ducked his head, trying not to look at Harry directly. 

“I’m just worried this will change things between the three of us,” he began wringing his hands, still hiding his eyes. 

Harry made a cooing sound, getting up and forcing Liam into a hug. 

“Please, you know I have my eyes on someone else. You’re a bit too much of a bear for me, my dear. Besides, you’d have to pry Zayn off you with a crowbar.” Harry planted a kiss onto the crown of Liam’s head before heading toward the kitchen once again. “You want a bacon sandwich?”

Liam nodded along as Harry spoke, wrapping his arms around him tightly. 

“Yeah, I could use a bacon sandwich. Seems I used up all my energy this morning,” he laughed, winking as Harry went about making them a late lunch. 

***

By the time April rolled around, Harry was determined to at least become friends with Louis. Despite the fact that every time Harry even glanced at them, he wanted to bend over and present himself to Louis, he felt they could still be friends.

And if everything went according to plan, maybe the sexual tension would lead to a better arrangement later on.

Harry had been hanging around Perrie and Leigh-Anne more frequently, and had started to pick up a bit of basic information about Louis’ past. Half of him felt this was an invasion of privacy, and the other half considered this reconnaissance.

Either way, Harry had picked up a bit of pertinent information. Like the fact that Louis’ family still kept in touch with them.

Unfortunately, Harry still had no idea what had spurred Louis to leave their family, or how they had gotten here in the first place. Perrie had mentioned something about Louis leaving home at 15. This struck Harry as odd, because Leigh-Anne had said that Louis’ mom didn’t care that they were interested in men.

Which was something entirely different from Harry’s experience.

Harry’s mom, the southern belle she was, had said she couldn’t abide by his sin, but that she still loved him no matter his afflictions. It had left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth, but he loved his mother, despite her shortcomings.

Gemma had always been supportive, which had made life a bit easier at home, until she’d moved off to college, leaving Harry to fight his own battles. Harry’s step-dad had been a bit of an ass, but he’d never raised a hand to Harry. Not that that stopped him from verbally kicking the shit out of Harry, but he’d learned to live with it. Once he’d graduated, Harry had packed his shit and left town. It was the best choice he’d ever made, because Los Angeles had embraced him more than Greensboro, Alabama, ever had.

His small town experience was lackluster at best, and terrifying at worst. He’d never really had to deal with overt homophobia. It was an unmentioned piece of him that everyone could see, but no one mentioned. He hadn’t had many friends, but that was probably for the best. It was hard enough listening to his church, and parents tell him he was going to hell; the thought of a friend doing the same would have broken him. 

Somehow being in L.A. and finding a group of people who were just like him, left him feeling like he was on the precipice of something amazing. It was like the static in the air before a huge storm hits. The humid stickiness about to be washed away by healing rain, and Harry was ready to drown in the droplets. 

He wasn’t sure what had led him here, but he felt it was meant to be. Meeting Liam, Zayn, Louis, and the girls felt like fate. Everytime he hung around them it felt like breathing air, drinking water. 

He just wished Louis didn’t hate him, it really put a damper on the good vibes. 

Harry couldn’t really blame them, but it hurt just the same. Leigh-Anne had said that they had had a rough childhood. Louis’ mother was amazing, but apparently school was a different story. He didn’t have the full story, probably never would, but it did humanize Louis. He felt more drawn to them, wanting to prove to them both that he was not the shithead he’d made himself out to be. 

Never in his life had Harry regretted hurting someone more than that night at the bar when he’d yelled at the girls. 

***

It was getting late, and Harry couldn’t help but tap a beat with one of his sparkly gold feet. He’d gotten ready back at his place, taking care to style his curls. But, when he’d gotten to the girls’ place, he’d been disappointed. Perrie and Leigh-Anne were both busy primping in the bathroom. He could faintly smell the Aquanet in the air, and hear the radio playing top 40 hits. 

Louis had been flitting around like a housefly, occasionally doing things just to piss Harry off. He’d tried brushing it off, trying to be as nice as possible, but after they had ‘accidentally’ spilled water on his crotch, he was a bit angry. 

“Do you have anything better to do than fuck with me?” Harry asked, his hands clenched in fists on his thighs. He glared up at Louis who was perched on the arm of the sofa Harry was lounging on. 

“Actually, now that you mention it? I don’t.” They shot Harry a cheeky grin, before reaching out to flick Harry on the nose. “Has anyone ever told you that your nose is shaped like a penis?” 

Harry’s eyes narrowed, one hand involuntarily rubbing the sore spot on his nose. 

“They have now...” his voice trailed off, slightly nasal from the way he was holding the place Louis had flicked. 

Before the conversation could continue, Leigh-Anne had stepped into the living room. Her hair was picked into an afro as per usual, but her outfit was more like something Perrie would wear. She had on an exorbitant amount of bangles on her wrists, and her lycra pants were a shiny black. She was wearing a plain white tee, the sleeves stylishly rolled up a few times. She flashed Harry a smile before precariously sitting in his lap. 

“Louis, don’t you have something you could be doing? Maybe shaving your back?” She shot him a dangerous look, masked with a pearly smile. It was unnerving to watch, and Harry was sure that if she ever looked at him like that he would die. 

However, Louis seemed unconcerned, easily hopping to their lithe feet. 

“I guess I could let Perrie tease my hair,” they shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s been begging to style my hair like those cocks from The Misfits.” They pushed the sides of their hair behind their ears before pulling the top in front of their eyes. “What do you think, Harold? Ready for a ‘Ghouls Night Out’?”

They walked to the bathroom where Perrie was, shooting finger guns at Leigh-Anne as they left. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Harry asked, trying to make eye contact with Leigh-Anne. 

She slid out of his lap onto the cushion beside him. 

“You know, The Misfits? They have a song called ‘Ghouls Night Out.’ It’s a pun, Harry.” She rolled her eyes at him, picking lint off of her shirt. 

“Oh,” he replied, ducking his head a bit. “I’ve never heard of them.” 

Leigh shrugged.

“They’re okay. I prefer Bad Religion, but Perrie’s obsessed. Think if she was less of a lesbian she’d be trying to fuck the lead singer. Louis doesn’t really like them either, but they humor her.”

Harry nodded along, acting as if he knew who these bands were. He’d always been more interested in pop, rock and country, never branching out from that. No reason not to try something new though.

“I’ll have to check them all out, see if I like them. Might even have to tag along to a show sometime.” Harry said, a laugh in his voice. Leigh-Anne could see straight through him. 

“Sure, sugar. That’s why you want to come.”

Harry blushed a bit, trying to play it off. 

“What other bands do you guys listen to? I might get Zayn to bring me home some records from the shop.”

Leigh-Anne cocked her head, one hand resting below her jaw, pointer finger tapping her nose rhythmically as she thought. 

“Louis’ been obsessed with the Ramones for years now. The Dead Kennedys haven’t been around long, but the EP they released was pretty great. Black Flag is a local band, and we’ve seen them tons of times. They aren’t from L.A. though, so they don’t get gigs at The Masque. Those are the ones we’ve been into recently.”

Harry nodded, making a note to ask Zayn about the Ramones later. 

“Thanks, Leigh, I appreciate it. Who knows next time you see me, I might have some sick face accessories. Shit, might even be in eyeliner.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, until she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

“Ha, I think that would actually kill Louis. Hate for you to steal their brand. I think that might actually be the final nail in your coffin, Haz.” 

Before they could continue talking, Louis and Perrie came into the living room together. 

“My ears are  _ burning _ , Leigh-Anne. Speak of the devil and they shall appear.” Louis threw their hands out in a ‘ta-da’ motion, before gesturing to their hair. 

Harry didn’t need the extra help, his eyes had been glued to Louis’ new hair as soon as they had entered the room. 

The copper strands were slicked back on the side, gelled in place and shiny. The long hair at the top of his head was all pulled forward into a point in front of his face. It was a bit shaggy at the top, various strands adding volume to the look. Harry wasn’t sure whether he loved it or hated it, but it was undoubtedly striking. He had to sit on his hands to keep from reaching out. 

Leigh-Anne rolled her eyes at Louis, opting to leave the couch to hang off of her girlfriend. 

“You look even more ridiculous than usual, cheers.” She held up her hand as if she were holding a drink, and Perrie mimicked her, both toasting to what Leigh had said. 

Louis flipped them both off, huffing as they walked to the door. 

“Absolutely terrible friends, the lot of you.” They said, promptly opening the door and stepping outside. 

As the sound of the door slamming filled the apartment, Harry turned to look at the girls. 

“Does that mean we’re friends?” Harry asked, gesturing between himself and the door Louis had just left through. 

Perrie stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. She then turned to Leigh-Anne sharing a look of what seemed to Harry like disbelief. 

“You’re very stupid, you know that?” Leigh-Anne said, before dragging Perrie to the door. “Now hurry up. If we don’t leave soon Louis won’t buy the first round.”

Harry scrambled after them, giggling as he watched them rush forward in wobbly stilettos. 

Did Louis consider them friends? He’d never seen them treat any of their other friends the way they treated him. But, that didn’t mean they weren’t friends. Or did it? 

Harry sighed, quickly running to catch up with Louis. 

Maybe this was how Louis treated their friends who were guys? He’d heard Jesy talking about Niall, one of their friends who lived nearby. Louis might just enjoy giving guys a hard time. 

It seemed a bit weird and oddly specific, so Harry figured he must have misinterpreted their meaning. Louis didn’t like him, and probably never would. They certainly weren’t friends. 

***

Jade and Jesy were snuggling on the couch in Harry’s apartment, keeping him company. Zayn and Liam had gone on a date to see some dumb slasher fic called  _ Graduation Day _ . In order to not be home alone, Harry had invited the girls over. 

The television was playing in the background, the new episode of  _ Dynasty _ droning on as they spoke. 

“It’s just like, a beam of light, like hit her. She was like a star, and I like couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to be in her like presence.” Jesy said, her eyes sparkling as she looked at her girlfriend. 

It had taken Harry a while to get used to Jesy’s valley girl dialect. Each of her sentences ended like a question, despite the fact that they weren’t. And, she used the word like more often than completely necessary. When he’d asked her about it, she had told him she was from San Fernando valley, as if that answered his question.

“That’s so sweet. Love at first sight.” Harry said, sighing to himself afterwards. “I always thought I wouldn’t get that, especially back home in Alabama. I was the only gay guy, and I was always too visible.”

Harry paused, collecting his thoughts. The two women paused as well, sharing sad eyes between them. 

“Coming here, I feel like I have a better chance...” his words tapered off. “I thought I had it last year, but I think that was just my naiveté.”

Jade sighed, reaching out to card her fingers through Harry’s hair. He was sitting on the floor in front of them, leaning his head against the cushion.

“Babe, don’t worry. Your prince charming is out there, he’s just taking his time.” She patted his cheek affectionately before pulling her hand back to her lap. “I thought that I’d never find a girlfriend either.”

Harry gave her a pointed look, his head angled in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m a bambi lesbian, so like not interested in sex? I like cuddling and kissing, but past that I’m kind of like blah about it. I figured I’d never get a girlfriend because I wouldn’t put out.” She shrugged a bit, before taking Jesy’s hands in her own. “But Jesy doesn’t care. She loves me, and that’s enough.” She shrugged a bit, playing off the intensity of her words. 

Jesy placed a kiss to her cheek, turning to Harry with a huge grin on her face. 

“Don’t worry, string bean. I think the universe has like a plan for you. There’s someone out there that’s like been picked out for you, and when you like find them, you’d better enjoy them.” Jesy paused, pointing a stern finger at Harry. “Nothing’s promised, so when you find your partner you better enjoy them. Who knows what like the universe has in store.” 

Jade flicked Jesy on her arm. “Quit being so ominous with fatalistic bullshit, Jes. The vibe in the room is tankin’ take a chill pill.”

“I’m so sure!” Jesy replied, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend. 

Harry grinned, closing his eyes and listening to them playful argue. It was sweet, and he could hear the affection dripping from each word they uttered. He could almost imagine his own future partner entering the conversation just to tease them all. His brain morphed that shapeless person into Louis, and it almost hurt too much to imagine. The thought of getting to fondly tease them while hanging out with the girls was visceral and left a hollow ache in his chest. 

He tried to shove the idea from his head, but it kept creeping in, leaving him raw and vaguely cornered. 

Trying his best to press the feeling down in his chest, he made eye contact with Jade. 

“Tell me the story about how you met again?” He batted his eyelashes for effect, losing himself in the story as he listened to Jade speak in her soft lilting voice. It was a nice distraction, especially when Jesy would butt in with her own input, contradicting the details. 

It was almost enough to get his mind off of his unrequited love for Louis. But, every time Jesy interrupted Jade, he couldn’t help but feel like that would be him and Louis telling their children the story of how they met. 

Harry sighed. Why did he always do this to himself. Pining for something he couldn’t have. It was bad enough when he got a crush on the pitcher of his high school baseball team. Awkward boners in math class had gotten his things thrown on the floor more times then he could count. He was too obvious, everyone had been able to see his crush then, and Perrie and Leigh-Anne had already sussed him out. 

The girls had finished their story, looking between themselves and Harry. He had zoned out, his eyes staring into nothing as they watched. 

“Are we like boring you, Harry?” Jesy asked, her voice playful and teasing, like it had been earlier with Jade. 

He quickly turned his head towards her, looking like a scolded child. 

“No, uh, sorry. I just have a lot on my mind? All this talk about falling me in love has me thinking.” He pauses to collect his thoughts. “I really thought I had found the one when I got here, you know? But, I don’t think I was right.” He shook his head ruefully. “‘Sides, this person obviously hates me.” He pouted.

Jade and Jesy glanced at each other, Jesy grinning like the cheshire cat. 

“I like can’t believe that. Someone like hating you? You’re like the gay version of like a church boy. You like charm old women just by like existing in their vicinity. In like no lifetime could someone like hate you.” Jesy said, gesturing to Jade to get her two cents. 

“Yeah, Jesy’s right. I think that whoever it is you have your eye on is probably just as into you as you are into them.” She shrugged. “Just go with the flow, Harry. See where life takes you.”

Harry sighed, rubbing one hand on his forehead. 

“I guess you guys have a point, but I really think that it’s a waste of time. This person is totally not interested in me.”

Jade sighed, reaching out to flick Harry on the ear.

“Quit being a dipstick. Stop trying to predict this other person’s thoughts and feelings. Get to know them, and see if you’re compatible. You’re the master of your own destiny, Harry. Be more optimistic, yeah?”

Harry let out a drawn out groan, head dropping face first into the couch cushion. 

“I’ll take your advice and see where it goes,” he said, words smushed into the fabric. He could vaguely hear the girls high-fiving at their victory. 

***

Summer hit Los Angeles, but it felt just as it had earlier in the year. The heat was dry and felt like the universe had put the city in an oven. The heat had affected Louis poorly, and Harry wasn’t surprised when they showed up one night covered in red welts, blood running in a river from their nose to the corner of their lips. 

Heat always made people more volatile, more vicious, and Louis seemed to be no exception. 

Leigh-Anne had invited him over for a girls night, and they were halfway through a gallon tub of ice cream and a large delivery pizza. Jesy was unfazed, but Jade leaped up to help. Perrie sighed longsufferingly, grabbing Leigh-Anne’s hand and heading to the kitchen. 

Harry felt a bit like a headless chicken, not sure what to do or where to go. He felt too strange sitting alone in the living room, like a long forgotten toy lost to the void under a bed. But, if he went with Leigh and Perrie he’d be taking the easy way out, hiding with the people he trusted most. Going to the bathroom where Louis was seemed to dangerous. He didn’t want to step too close; a lit flame courting a gasoline spill. 

Before he could miss his window of opportunity, Harry decided to take Jade’s advice. He’d go in and try to help Louis, get to know them better in the process. Feeling sorry for himself certainly wasn’t going to change anything.

If he was going to win Louis over, then he’d have to work for it. They had said so themself when he’d tried to apologize. No more pussyfooting around; Harry was going to take life by the horns, and make his wildest dreams come true.

He sat up, pulling his stiff body from the floor and walking over to the bathroom. He could hear Jesy and Jade bickering as they worked, and he found it strange that he couldn’t hear Louis’ soft tenor voice in the mix. 

His head peered around the door jamb before he made the commitment to enter, but it was a moot point. Louis’ eyes narrowed when they saw him, and they let out a huffing sound. 

“What’s big head doing in here? No one invited him.” Louis declared, continuing to make eye contact with Harry despite the fact they weren’t actually addressing him. 

Jesy sighed, pressing hard on a gash on Louis’ arm in retaliation. Louis let out a surprised gasp, that sounded too much like the noises they’d made jerking off at their birthday party. Harry shut his brain down, not needing a boner while he was trying to play nurse. 

“He’s like probably like come to check on you. Not like you weren’t like hoping to have us all like at your beck and call after that like entrance you made. Fucking drama queen.”

Harry walked into the bathroom, snickering at the put out sound Louis made. 

“Um, yeah. I was wondering if I could do anything to help?” 

Jesy handed him a roll of gauze, pointing to the wound she’d just cleaned.

“Like wrap that up for like them, and like make sure it isn’t like too tight. Can’t have Louis pissing and moaning about it like all night.”

Harry nodded setting to work. It wasn’t long before Leigh-Anne and Perrie entered, handing out a bag of ice for Louis’ nose. 

“You’re such a piece of shit, Louis. I can’t believe you went out and picked a fight at a mosh.”

Louis opened their mouth to respond, but before they could Perrie’s hand shot out and closed their mouth forcefully. Harry flinched at the sound of teeth clacking together, and he tried to make himself smaller as he continued wrapping Louis’ wound. 

“Don’t even try to give us an explanation, Louis. You can’t keep trying to solve your problems this way. You aren’t even solving anything, you’re just punishing yourself.”

Perrie and Leigh-Anne left hand in hand, Louis’ mouth gaping as they watched them go. 

Harry had finally finished wrapping their arm, but he wasn’t sure whether he should stay or leave. Jade and Jesy had finished bandaging them, so they too were making their exits. He wasn’t sure whether he was wanted at all, so he decided that he’d put up the gauze and try to make conversation. If it fell through then he’d join his girls back in the living room, but if he could make nice with Louis, then he’d stay. 

“What band did you see?” Harry asked, angling his body toward Louis while he squatted to place the gauze under the sink. He tried to be nonchalant, feigning that he was much less interested than he truly was. 

Louis shot him a suspicious glare, fidgeting with the ice pack on their nose. 

“I hit up Starwood. They were having a big show, and the Circle Jerks were playing.” They shrugged a bit, playing it off, but Harry could see in their eyes that it wasn’t just some show. 

“That’s a wicked band name, do you have any of their albums? I was asking Leigh-Anne about some of the bands you guys were into, and I checked a few out and was really into them. Like, uh, I listened to some of Black Flag’s stuff they’re pretty good actually! Oh! Also, she mentioned the Ramones. Zayn brought me they’re album  _ Road to Ruin _ ? And I loved it!”

He could feel himself rambling on and on, but Louis just waited patiently for him to finish his thoughts. As he spoke, Louis’ face began to morph from suspicion to glee. It made Harry feel giddy to be on the receiving end of such a blinding smile. 

“I have their album in my room, if you want to listen to it? One of the members actually used to be in Black Flag, funnily enough, so I bet you’ll like them.” Their smile was so big, it made their eyes crinkle, and Harry wanted desperately to press his fingers to them. “She mentioned the Ramones, did she? Sneaky, sneaky.”

They paused, and Harry cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed. 

“They’re my favorite band, and she knows it.”

Harry was still rather confused about why that mattered, or why Louis thought it was sneaky. But he was too nervous to ask. No sense in ruining a good thing before it had even begun. 

“I’d love to listen to it, if that’s okay with you?” Harry asked, playing with the rings on his fingers as his nerves hit. It was hard to say yes. Harry had been trained from a young age that people being nice to him was a fluke, a potential trick to make him feel stupid. Louis had already been mean to him, and this seemed almost too good to be true. But, if he was in for a penny he might as well be in for the pound. 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it, Harold.” Louis replied, setting the half melted ice bag in the sink. They stood up off the counter, one hand out to pull Harry up as well. “Come on, let’s go, big head. This record won’t play itself. 

Louis led Harry to their room, and it was all he could do to suppress the memories of Louis jerking off on the very bed they were about to sit on. They pushed Harry onto the bed before walking over to a worn crate against the wall. Squatting down, Louis began to hunt for the Circle Jerks album. It was hard for Harry to pay attention to anything other than Louis’ ass. It was obscene in the jeans they were wearing, and Harry had never been more glad he’d stepped outside his comfort zone. 

Even if he never got to be more than friends with Louis, at least he would have the option of ogling them whenever the moment struck. 

After a moment, Louis made a triumphant noise, pulling the cardboard square from the mass of records in the crate. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. Perrie says I’ve got a bit of a problem with hoarding records.” They pulled the shiny black vinyl out of it’s paper protective part, before balancing it on their left hand like a waiter. With their other hand they opened the clear top of their player, adjusting the record until it was sitting ready to be played. Louis delicately placed the needle onto the record before putting the cover back on. 

As they walked over to Harry they plucked the outer layer of the record from the floor. They tossed it to Harry, sitting close enough on the bed that they could touch knees. Harry began to look at the artwork on the cover, smiling at the blocky black and white print and color blocked sections. The title of the album was ‘Group Sex’ which tickled Harry to no end and before he could even process the first song it was over.

As the second song played, Harry examined the back of the album. It was a pastel pink shade, with two photos of the band. He ran his fingers over the yellow photo of the band, admiring the strange quality of it. As the song quickly ended and the next started he began to look at the song names. The names were comical and fit the theme of the band. 

The songs themselves were extremely short, Harry was intrigued by how quickly they were over. He’d been listening to the rock bands of the sixties and seventies his entire life, and they had written long songs. He could remember listening to Kashmir the first time, and wondering when it would finally be over. These shorter songs certainly nipped that feeling in the bud. 

Harry set the album artwork to the side, closing his eyes to listen to the harsh beat of the drums and frantic guitar riffs. 

Soon he felt the bed shift as Louis got up to flip the record to the b-side. Harry could hear the song and couldn’t help guffawing at the lyrics.  _ I’ve got the world up my ass. _ Louis joined him laughing at the lyrics, getting back on the bed. 

When the music stopped, Harry was shocked. He opened his eyes, brows furrowed as he looked at Louis. 

“Why did it stop?” 

Louis smiled, furrowing his brows in mock at Harry. 

“The album is 14 songs in like 15 minutes. It’s like the epitome of the genre, dear Harold.” 

He pouted, acknowledging that Louis had a point. 

“Did you enjoy seeing them in concert?” Harry asked, leaning back on his elbows to stare up at Louis. 

“Yeah, they were amazing! The crowd was insane, and the energy in the mosh was intense. It was definitely a good going away concert.” Louis sighed, their voice tapering off at the end. 

“Going away for who?” Harry responded, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. Louis had those glow in the dark stars on their ceiling, and in the dim light from his lamp he could just barely see them glowing. 

“The Starwood. The fire marshall’s shutting it down, and so they had one last big hoorah to go out with a bang.” Louis was fiddling with the frayed holes in their black shirt, and Harry wished the Starwood would stay open forever if it would make Louis happy. 

“I’m sorry. Is that why you came back so bloody?” Harry asks before he can stop himself. 

“Sort of. Mostly I wanted to forget about the fact that I was losing my favorite venue. I saw the Ramones there in ‘76 and it was kind of like an escape for me. Now it’s going to leave me.” 

They sounded so melancholy it made Harry sad as well. He’d never even been to the place, but now he’d never get the chance. It was the end of an era for Louis, and now it was the beginning of one for Harry. They were making progress towards a tentative trust, the hint of a friendship. 

He couldn’t be sure that they would be as close as Harry dreamed they would be, but baby steps were better than remaining stagnant. 

***

Fall came with lower temperatures, but it was still fairly mild compared to what Harry had endured in eastern Alabama. He could still rock shorts and tanks without a problem, which brought him infinite joy. The humidity of Alabama was tragically hot, and had left Harry with swamp ass more times than he was interested in. Los Angeles, however, was dry and arid, and it made everything better. Even Harry’s hair was happier in the desert-like climate. 

He’d been told by Liam to come to the bar that night, and he was more than happy to oblige. It was Halloween and Harry could think of no better way to spend it than getting plastered at The Black Cat while wearing a costume. 

Liam had conned Zayn into going as Batman and Robin, which put a damper on Harry’s idea of being the Blues Brothers with Liam. However, he’d had a stroke of genius a week before. 

He was at the bar, watching the weekend’s drag show, when he ran into one of Liam’s friends who did drag, Bloody Mary. She was walking around after the show, still dressed to the nines, when Harry caught her attention. She ran her long acrylics through his shaggy curls. 

“You know you would make an excellent Dr. Frank-N-Furter. You’ve got the curls, and the waist, hell, you even have the bone structure.” She punctuated each point by touching each part of Harry’s body she was referring to. 

He was rather surprised by that. He’d seen the show in a midnight running, but it had never crossed his mind to try his hand at it.

“Oh! I love Tim Curry. That would be such a great Halloween costume!” 

From there Bloody Mary had offered to loan him a corset and help him buy some heels that would fit his big feet. And now that it was Halloween, he was going to make her proud by going all out. 

When he’d finally made it to the bar, his lipstick mostly intact, Harry made his way to the bar. Before he could reach it, he caught sight of Louis in their costume. They were shirtless, with a pair of tiny green shorts on. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of the way they looked in the shorts, and he honestly wanted to spin them around so he could take a look at their ass. 

Harry couldn’t stop himself from walking over to Louis. They had gotten a lot more civil since they’d bonded over the Circle Jerks, and Harry felt comfortable initiating a conversation now. 

Before he could get too close, he noticed the bright red boots on Louis’ feet. They looked rather cute, but Harry didn’t recognize who they were meant to be. 

“Harold, my dear, you are looking quite the extraterrestrial transvestite this evening.” Louis said as soon as they took notice of Harry. 

He could feel his face flushing under the theatre makeup he’d caked on his face. 

“You look fairly dashing yourself. Can I ask who you are though?” Harry said that part with his hand over his mouth as if telling Louis a secret. 

“What a shame and disgrace you are, Harry! Have you never seen the homoerotic film  _ Flash Gordon _ ? It was a smash hit last year.”

Harry shrugged sheepishly, lowering his false eyelash covered eyes. 

“Can’t say that I have,” he replied shrugging. 

Louis shook their head, looking much like a scolding school teacher. 

“That’s real disappointing, but I may or may not know someone who has a working VCR player with a VHS copy of the movie. Maybe next time we’re all free I can con him into letting us watch it. Might even have to make popcorn.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, his already rouged cheeks scarlet from his excited flush. 

“That sounds like a lot of fun! I’m sure I’ll enjoy it!”

He couldn’t believe that Louis was making the effort to hang out with him. It was highly surreal and Harry felt like this Halloween was a fever dream from a bad edible trip.

***

Louis had picked their costume out early in the year, knowing exactly who they wanted to be. They had seen  _ Flash Gordon _ in theatres the year before and fallen in love. So, it seemed only obvious to make that their costume. 

The girls hadn’t felt like coming to the bar. Jesy had loudly complained about the sausage fest, and Perrie said something about eating Leigh-Anne out while the other girls were out. Which left Louis to go to the bar alone. 

They’d been nursing a rum and coke on the rocks, when they noticed Harry. He looked positively edible in his costume, and Louis had never been more interested in fucking him than right then. 

Harry’s hair had been carefully placed so it more closely resembled Dr. Frank-N-Furter, and his face was painted delicately with dark eyes and red lips. The corset he was wearing looked like something Louis had seen before. It was a sparkly black number, laced up the front and emphasizing his narrow waist. The gaff he was wearing was doing an excellent job of concealing his bulge, and the way his panties cut into his thighs was breathtaking. The garters he had on held up the transparent black hose on his legs. The heels he was sporting left him towering over the patrons of the bar like some omnipotent goddess of queer, and Louis was drawn to him. 

The closer Harry got to them, the more difficult Louis found it to breathe. But, they had to play it cool no matter what. They were just now on civil terms, it wouldn’t do well to scare the poor boy away. That was the opposite of what Louis wanted, if they were honest with themselves. 

Louis couldn’t believe that Harry had never seen  _ Flash Gordon _ , it was hands down one of their favorite films. It had a buff half-naked man, and killer science fiction elements. But, like any good friend, Louis extended an invitation to see it. 

Niall had a VCR player in his apartment. He hadn’t told Louis where he’d gotten it from, but they would bet money that Niall had conned some poor yuppie into buying it for him. They could never figure out how Niall did it. He was so twinky and sweet, it drew daddies in like flies to honey. But, that boy must have had gold in his ass or something, because those men were constantly giving Niall expensive shit. Louis couldn’t say they weren’t jealous, but they’d sworn off bottoming years ago, so it was a moot point.

Despite their misgivings about bottoming again, they couldn’t deny the pull they felt towards Harry. If Louis hadn’t seen that handkerchief in his right pocket, they’d have sworn he was a top. They had tried to hate Harry, but the man made it so difficult. Not only was he sin in a pair of jeans, but he was also a sweetheart. Despite Louis’ first impression of the guy, Harry made it hard to hate him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/zanainreverse/playlist/0scD43kzyZkgPURPRMJAKW?si=abeySYGZSLeDYpaa-eH4Eg) if you'd like to listen along. it includes music mentioned in the fic and also songs that fit the era.

#  **_1983_ **

Eighty-three started out with a bang. Zayn threw an extravagant birthday party for himself. He was turning 22 and so it was to be quite the affair. 

He’d rented out a hotel suite, and planned to throw a high-class house party. It was strictly black tie, much to everyone’s chagrin. All the guys and Louis had rented tuxedos, and the girls had bought thrift store prom dresses for the occasion. 

The hotel was one of the shittier ones in the area, but it had a working television in each room of the suite so they couldn’t complain. They had MTV blasting in the background, throwing back flutes of cheap champagne. Zayn had bought too many bottles at the liquor store for nine people, but Niall had footed the bill, insisting they buy as many as they could hold. He’d clapped Zayn on the back, planting a wet kiss to his cheek, and insisting it was his gift. 

Harry had already given Zayn his gift, a promise to stay gone from the apartment all the next weekend. He’d already cleared it with Niall, planning to crash on his couch. Harry figured Zayn and Liam could use the privacy. It was a bit hard to play with another person hanging around the apartment. 

The party was rather fun, despite the bad locale. Harry found himself tossing back gulps of champagne straight from the bottle, Niall cackling in glee as he watched. 

Louis grabbed a bottle from the table, ripping the foil off and easily uncorking it. 

“Hey, Haz! Check it out!” They shouted gleefully, climbing up onto the bed. 

Harry immediately turned to face them, eyebrows raising. He had a pretty good idea of what Louis was going to do, and he also had a pretty good idea that Zayn was going to lose his deposit on the room. 

Louis placed their thumb over part of the mouth of the bottle and proceeded to jump up on down on the bed, shaking the bottle as they went. The alcohol sprayed out of the neck of the bottle like a champagne hose. 

It flew through the air, landing on the bedspread, the carpet, and Liam. 

“Louis! What the fuck?” Liam shouted, shoving Louis until they fell back onto the mattress. “I’m gonna kick your scrawny ass!” Liam climbed onto the bed, straddling Louis so that they couldn’t get away. 

“Oi! Get off of me, Liam. Can’t even have a good time without Dad getting all huffy!” Louis replied, bottle of champagne forgotten on the floor in the scuffle. 

Zayn and Harry walked over to the two bickering on the bed. With a bit of effort, Zayn managed to convince Liam to get off of Louis. 

“Why would you do that, Lou? You’re ruining Zayn’s party.” Liam sighed, face pinched and voice exasperated. 

Harry pulled Louis up off the bed, wrapping an arm around their shoulders to keep them put. 

“They didn’t ruin my party, Lima Bean.” Zayn said, placing a kiss to Liam’s red cheek. “There’s a reason we’re at a hotel and not our apartment. Do you know how many hours Harry would have to scrub to get our shag carpet back to normal?”

Liam begrudgingly nodded, still a bit pissy from Louis’ antics. 

“Don’t know how I’m going to return this suit with alcohol on it.” He said, pouting like a little kid. 

“No worries, Liam. I’ll get it dry-cleaned for you. No hard feelings?” Louis asked, leaning into Harry’s body. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a fucking menace, but I guess I won’t punch you in the nose.” Liam answered, voice growing fond around the edges. 

“Please refrain from breaking the merchandise, Liam. I don’t want to end up with a nose like Harold here.” They said, snickering at Harry’s offended look. 

“Heeey,” Harry whined, flicking Louis’ on the nose. “Not nice.”

Louis stuck their tongue out, before running out of the room and to the other side of the suite. 

“Smell ya later,” they shouted, grabbing another bottle of alcohol as they went. 

Harry sighed, shaking his head as he followed Louis. 

They had holed up in the other room of the suite, room dim with the flickering light of the television. Harry pulled the door to behind him, joining Louis on the bed.

“Didn’t feel like partying?” Harry asked, grabbing the bottle from Louis so he could take a swig. 

Louis shrugged, grabbing the bottle again when Harry was done. 

“Liam’s a wet blanket. Hanging with him makes me ralph.” Louis made a retching noise, finger pointing into their mouth like they were gagging themself. 

“He’s not too bad. Definitely a stick in the mud, but he’s a sweet guy. Got a nice cock too.”

Louis turned their head quickly, eyebrow cocked. 

“You seen his cock?” They asked incredulously. 

“Done more than that.” Harry replied with a smirk.

Louis took another drink, swirling the bottle and watching the liquid move. 

“Naughty boy. What would Zayn think?” 

Harry let out a honking laugh, teeth catching the light of the tv. 

“He participated.” 

The statement hung in the cool air of the hotel room. 

“I’m gonna need the 411 on that, Harry. You can’t drop bombs like that without context.”

“Well if you thought your birthday present last month was amazing, it had nothing on my nineteenth. I asked Zayn and Liam if they’d spitroast me.” Harry elaborated for Louis. The way he spoke made it seem like no big deal, but having a threesome with your roommates was definitely nothing to be blasé about. 

“It took a bit convincing for Liam to say yes, but eventually he did. And so he fucked me, while I blew Zayn. It was a once in a lifetime experience.”

Harry glanced over at Louis, who was still staring into the bottle of champagne. They looked rather nonchalant, but Harry felt like perhaps he should have just kept his mouth shut. 

“So are you all together?” Louis asked, taking another swig afterwards. 

“Nah, Liam and Zayn are great for each other but not for me. I need someone a bit more...mercurial. Liam is too yuppie for me, and Zayn’s too pretty to get into a bar fight for me.” He punctuated his thoughts with a mild shrug.

Harry grabbed the bottle, throwing his head back and chugging a good portion down. If they were going to discuss how much he liked Louis, he was going to need to be a lot more drunk. 

Louis nodded along, eyes darting to Harry’s neck as he chugged half of the champagne that was left in the bottle. 

“Got your eye on anyone then, Styles?” They asked, grabbing the bottle back before finishing it off. They set it on the bed side table, turning so that they were facing Harry. 

Harry shimmied down to lay on the hotel duvet, watching as Louis mimicked him. The room was fairly quiet, other than the sounds of the party filtering through the thin walls. The light from the television flickered in and out; bathing the duo in sharp contrast for brief seconds before leaving them in the dark again. 

“Yeah, I do. Don’t think it’ll work out, but I can’t help pinning.” 

Louis hummed, considering Harry’s answer. 

“Sounds like my situation as well. Couple of nancy boys, aren’t we?” Louis sighed, smiling wryly at Harry. 

“Excuse me? I didn’t realize my father was attending this party.” Harry said, putting on a fake high pitched voice. Both of them laughing. 

“Your dad sounds like a real piece of work.” Louis replied.

“Yeah, he’s a right dick. Can’t say I miss him. What about you, Lou?” 

Louis nodded, fiddling with the fabric under their hands. 

“Hard to miss what you never had.” Louis said, fake smile plastered on their face. “Dad fucked off after I was born. Miss my mom though, and my siblings.” 

Louis had a wistful look on their face, and Harry could almost feel how much they missed their family. 

“Can I ask why you left them then? SInce you obviously love them so much?” Harry asked, voice timid. 

They had never talked about their family together. It wasn’t a safe topic, like music was. Harry was nervous about how Louis would take it, and if they would even answer. 

“I was too queer. Not only was I a homosexual, but I wasn’t a super macho guy. I was a lot more swishy when I was a kid, and it got me beat up. My mom had the last set of twins when I was about thirteen, and I stayed to help her raise them for a few years. But, I couldn’t stay. My little sisters were starting to get older, and I didn’t want them getting bullied because of me. So, I left. Packed up my measly belongings and thumbed it from Iowa to L.A.” Louis paused.

Harry could see Louis’ eyes tearing up, but he wasn’t sure how to react. Should he hug them? Or maybe he should try cuddling them up in his arms? Harry decided to stay put for a moment, silently letting Louis work through their thoughts. 

“Sorry, sorry,” they muttered while shoving their palms into their eye sockets. “I just don’t like to think about what it took to get me here. I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of, but I didn’t really have a choice.”

Finally Harry made a decision. With that settled in his mind, he patted his chest.

“Come here. You need a cuddle.” Harry said, waiting until Louis cooperated, head laying on top of his chest. “There,” Harry muttered, rubbing Louis’ back with one hand. “Much better. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Lou. It’s none of my business, honest.”

Louis rubbed their cheek on Harry’s polyester shirt. 

“No, I want to tell you. I mean, fuck, you’re the only one who doesn’t already know.” 

Harry stayed silent, continuing his soft touch on the back of Louis’ tight suit jacket. 

“Getting from Des Moines was rough going. I spent a lot of time in truck stops, begging for someone to take me west. Just as far west as they were going was fine with me. But,” they pause. “But, not all of them were nice people, Haz. Some of them saw me as this poor dumb kid that needed help; those were the best people. The ones who asked for nothing in return. I wasn’t always lucky enough to get those ones.

“A lot of the men who drove me, asked for favors to pay my way. Sometimes, sometimes I only had to give them handjobs, or a blowie here and there. It wasn’t too bad. I figured it’d be worth it in the long haul, yeah? Going to a place where I wouldn’t be such an outcast? But, sometimes I don’t think it was worth it. I don’t think I should have let those men touch me the way they did Harry. I let them do things to me that I shouldn’t have.”

Louis stopped talking, but Harry was smart enough to fill in the dots. He could figure out for himself exactly what those men did to them. It left a burning feeling in his chest, hands fighting to form fists at the thought. 

“That’s, Louis, God, I’m so sorry that they did that to you. You were just a little kid, and they took advantage of you.” Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, squeezing them tight. 

He was almost certain he heard the faint sounds of Louis sobbing, but he didn’t have it in him to ask. 

“I’m so glad you’re here with us. I’m glad you found a family who loves you and doesn’t care about who you are. You deserve that and so much more, Lou.” Harry continued, letting his stream of conscious fall from his lips. He was not sure if it was helping, but he’d like to think it was soothing Louis. 

“God, it was so awful, Hazza.” Louis continued, voice nasally from his tears. “They ruined me for so long. I couldn’t even get near a guy for sex. Wouldn’t even get close to bottoming again after all those times. I felt like they’d broken me, fucked me up so bad I’d never be normal again.”

Harry made a disagreeing noise in his throat, shaking his head in defiance. 

“Just because you had to make some hard choices when you were younger, doesn’t make you a lesser person. You made your choices, and you got to where you needed to be. That’s nothing to be ashamed about. We all love you, even Liam.” Harry replied, trying to get Louis to laugh a bit. 

They made a snuffling noise, air rushing out of their nose in what Harry assumed was a laugh. 

“Thanks, Haz. You’re a better man than I gave you credit for. Sorry about snotting all over you.”

Louis’ voice sounded less pinched, chest rising and falling slower than when they were crying. 

“No worries, guess you’ll just have to dry clean this one too.”

They fell asleep like that, party all but forgotten. They were content to stay in the safe bubble that had formed while Louis was speaking. 

Harry felt that he’d finally gotten a look into how Louis functioned. Their backstory explained a lot of the hostility and coldness that they projected. After being hurt for so long at such a young age Harry was amazed Louis was even interested in being touched. He could see why everyone at the Tavern loved Louis so much. Louis must have been quite the mess when they’d gotten to L.A. and Harry wished that he could have been there to protect them. 

***

It’s February when Harry hears the landline ringing. He takes his time moseying over to it, hoping that someone else will rush out to answer it. Alas, he finds himself answering it.

“Yeah?” He asks impatiently. There was a finale coming on tonight that he really wanted to watch.

“Harry! Man, glad you picked up. I’m about to start watching the  _ M*A*S*H _ finale, and was wondering if you’d wanna come over? We can watch it on my tv?”

Harry sighed, looking longingly at the couch in the living room.

“You got liquor and snacks?” 

“Of course, Harry. Who do you think I am?” Niall replied.

“Okay, I’m heading over.” 

Harry made record time to Niall’s place, wanting to make sure he didn’t miss a single second of the two-hour finale. 

He pushed into Niall’s unlocked apartment, and shouted that he’d arrived. Niall slung his head around the corner of the entrance to the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear at Harry. 

“Glad you could make it, man. Louis said that they’d rather watch C-SPAN than the finale, so I guess it’s just you and me.” He shrugged, before pulling his head back into the kitchen. 

Harry wasn’t too disappointed, especially considering that he was going to watch the finale alone in his apartment anyway. Niall was good company, so this was a pleasant surprise. Plus his tv was way better than the one Zayn had bought off some guy on the street all those years ago. 

With the opening credits playing on screen, Niall flew into the room, carefully placing a bowl of chips on the coffee table, before placing a wine cooler in Harry’s lap. 

He flung himself down onto the other side of the couch from Harry, grinning as he shoved his toes underneath Harry’s legs. 

“You’re a menace,” he sighed. There was no moving Niall, though, so Harry just tried to get comfortable despite the freezing toes under his thigh. 

The finale was emotional and Harry found himself sobbing into Niall’s shoulder when the baby was smothered. It was so raw and emotional that even Niall was crying quietly beside him. The finale was two hours of watching how the traumas of war had affected the characters, and Harry had never been happier that he’d been too young for the draft during Vietnam. He’d heard that one of his uncles had dodged, moving to Canada to get away, and he couldn’t say that he blamed him. That probably would have been his first move as well. 

After the finale, Niall phoned Louis to lament how sad the show was. Louis apparently took pity on the two idiots, coming over to keep them company and have a laugh.

When they arrived, Louis started rifling through Niall’s movie collection. 

“Let’s watch  _ Grease _ . Niall, come set up your machine.” Louis muttered, pulling the VHS tape out of its cardboard sleeve. “This’ll cheer you sad saps up.”

Niall went over to the television, changing out the cords until the VCR was ready to play the film. Louis pushed it into the slot, before falling onto the couch. 

“Shouldn’t have watched it, Harry. You’re too soft for sad war shows, but you just had to watch the finale.” Louis muttered, patting Harry’s arm affectionately. “Now come give us a cuddle, you look like you need it.”

Harry made a noise of agreement, and shoved his head into Louis’ shoulder. He could hear Niall’s steps on the tile, and felt when he fell onto the couch as well. 

“Come on Niall, you too.” Louis pulled Niall into their other side, petting both boys tenderly on the head. 

The movie played in the background, Niall and Louis actually paying attention while Harry hid his face. He could feel the vibrations of Louis humming along to the music, and it soothed the raw feelings that  _ M*A*S*H _ had left him with. 

By the time Sandy dressed up as a greaser girl, Harry couldn’t help but be reminded of the time he’d tried to catch Louis’ affection. Thinking back on how Perrie had dressed him up like a punk rocker was enough to have him giggling into Louis’ chest. 

“What’s so funny, Hazza?” Louis asked, pushing Harry’s forehead back until they were making eye-contact. 

“Nothing, was just thinking about something funny Perrie did the other day.” Harry murmured, hoping that Louis would drop it, and leave him alone. 

It seemed luck wasn’t on his side, though. 

“Tell me.” Louis demanded, still smiling at him. 

“Just dressed me up funny, reminded me of when Sandy and Danny try to act like something they aren’t.” Harry shrugged, trying to play it off. He hoped that Louis wouldn’t put two and two together and figure out what instance he meant. 

Louis nodded, eyes seeming distant for a moment. 

The film did wonders for Niall and Harry’s moods, leaving them giggly and pleased when they said goodbye. Harry left in his truck, Louis doing the same on their motorcycle. 

***

Louis was riding their motorcycle, when it hit them. They were at a stop sign, waiting patiently for an opening they could slip into. 

They remembered Perrie mentioning something about helping Harry get ready for that Circle Jerks show last year. Which made sense considering how different Harry had looked. It had left Louis dizzy and hot under the collar when they had set eyes on Harry. It was so hard to keep their hands off of Harry’s soft figure, but somehow they’d managed. 

Of course that was what had made Harry laugh, thinking back to when Perrie had dressed him up for the part. He probably hated wearing those clothes, but Louis couldn’t figure out what reminded him of that scene with Sandy. It wasn’t like Harry was trying to impress anyone at the show. Hell he was probably just trying to fit in. Punks could get a little testy with outsiders. 

Maybe there was someone at the show that Harry had a thing for? That seemed plausible, but didn’t really make sense. Harry only hung out with the girls and Louis, so who was he into? 

Louis sighed, finally turning left to go home. They’d only been at the show for a handful of minutes before things went south, so maybe Harry just hadn’t gotten to see the person he was into. That made more sense. 

They couldn’t say they were happy that Harry had a crush on someone else, but it was probably for the best. There was no way Harry would be into them, they weren’t even a guy for fuck’s sake. Harry was obviously more interested in someone like Liam, he’d admitted as much at Zayn’s party. 

There was no sense in getting upset over Harry, they were just friends after all. But, Louis couldn’t help but mope in their room, getting drunk on cheap vodka and crying to Harry’s favorite record. 

***

Harry would never get used to how hot it was in L.A. during the summers. He’d been exposed to the wet heat of Alabama his entire life, but something about the dryness of SoCal left him feeling like he’d been placed in a pre-heated oven. 

It was much too hot to do anything, but somehow Niall had convinced the boys and Louis to head to the beach. Louis was wearing a pair of teeny speedos that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. They were black and contrasted so nicely against their golden tan, that Harry had to force himself to chat with Niall in order to avoid drooling like a dog. 

Niall was applying sunscreen all over his skin, trying to get it all over his back by himself. It was a bit embarrassing to watch him flounder, so Harry grabbed the bottle and started smoothing it into his back. 

“Here you go, Niall. Can’t have you burning out here. Sun burns are no joke.” Harry continued to rub it into the back of his neck as well. Couldn’t be too careful, especially when it was someone as fair as Niall. 

“Thanks, Harry. You’re a doll.” Niall replied, turning around to plant a sloppy kiss to Harry’s cheek. 

Harry grimaced, wiping his cheek off with a nearby towel. 

“Gag me with a spoon, Niall.” 

Louis plopped down beside him, putting a bottle of suntan lotion in his hands. 

“Will you lather me up? Wanna work on my tan.” Louis said, turning around to give Harry’s his back. “Too bad this isn’t a nude beach. Tan lines are such a turn off.” 

Harry wasn’t able to respond, too distracted by the thought of Louis walking around the beach with their ass and cock out. It was almost worse than the actual visual of them in that swimsuit. 

It was a long moment before Harry could force himself to squirt the cream into his hands. He warmed it up between his fingers before slowly working into Louis’ skin. 

They were warm, radiating heat like a tiny star, and their skin was so soft beneath his fingers. It was too familiar, and Harry felt that this was probably the most intimate thing that they’d done yet. 

Harry took his time, massaging Louis’ back as he applied the lotion. If this was the last chance he’d get to touch Louis, then he’d make the most of it. 

After Harry felt that he’d taken as much time as he could without it being weird, he handed Louis back the bottle. 

“Here you go, Lou.”

Louis grabbed the bottle, turning around to face Harry as they began rubbing it into their chest.

“Do you want some? It works really well to get you super tan.” Louis said once they had finished covering their exposed skin. 

“Sure, why not. Might as well get some color. I haven’t had a good summer tan in years.” Harry reached out for the bottle, but Louis stopped him. 

“Here let me get your back first.” Louis said.

They motioned for Harry to move over so they could reach his back. Harry laid down on his stomach beside Louis, arms crossed underneath his head.

Louis’ fingers were rough as they rubbed into Harry’s back. They pressed into the muscles, leaving Harry groaning at the sensation. He’d always had a bad back that left him with tension and soreness, but Louis’ fingers were like magic. The pain was startling, but the relief Harry felt was amazing. 

It wasn’t long before Louis had finished, and Harry couldn’t even gather the energy to move. He let out a long sigh, practically melting into the towel underneath his body. 

“Harry, you gonna lather up the rest of you?” Louis asked, a bit of a giggle in their voice. 

With a low hum, Harry shrugged as much as he could manage from his position. 

“After that free back massage? Not likely I’ll be moving for at least thirty more minutes.” Harry replied. His eyes flicked over to Louis and throwing him a lazy grin. 

Louis rolled their eyes, pouring more lotion into their hands. 

“I guess I’ll have to just coat the rest of you then, yeah?” Louis replied, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively. 

***

Harry was laying across Louis’ bed, when Niall burst into the room. It was early December, and Niall was still wearing a pair of jean shorts. It struck Harry as wildly unorthodox but he had learned not to question Niall’s quirks.  

“Harry, man, you’ll never believe what I just found out!” Niall shouted. He bounded over to Harry, pulling him up by the hands. 

“What Niall?” Harry replied, letting himself be pulled into a standing position. 

“Michael Jackson released a video for Thriller and we  _ have _ to learn it!” Niall said, still buzzing in place. “Now where the fuck is Louis?”

Niall continued to drag Harry along towards the apartment door, despite the fact that Harry didn’t have any shoes on. 

“Louis! Where are you?” Niall shouted, standing next to the door, and tapping his foot incessantly. 

Harry had to hold in his giggles, as Louis finally made their way into the living room. 

“Why are you yelling, Niall? You’re gonna piss off Jesy and then you’ll be sorry.” 

“But, Louis, this is a yelling occasion. Michael Jackson put out a video for Thriller and it’s got this sick dance to go along with it. We have to learn it Louis, it’s paramount that we start now!”

Harry can no longer hold in his laughter, honking out at the ridiculous situation.

“Seriously, Niall?” Louis asked, sighing as Niall nodded excitedly. “Fine let me get some shoes on, Jesus.”

Harry snickered, following Louis over to where their shoes were piled up. The duo slowly put their shoes on, taking their time to tie their laces, if only to piss Niall off. The other man was bouncing by the door, fidgeting anxiously the longer he was made to wait. 

Finally Harry took pity on him, grabbing Louis by their bicep and toting them to the door. 

“Come on then, let’s go get our groove on.” Harry said, sigh obvious in his tone. 

When they arrived at Niall’s apartment, he immediately ran over to his television.

“I was able to record it on my VCR and so we can play it over and over again until we get it right. I bought tons of beer and some bags of Doritos, so I think we’re set for the night.” Niall rambled on, setting up the tape of the music video. 

It took them three hours to get most of the moves down. Harry had sweat running down his face, and he was sorely regretting not bringing a headscarf or stealing one of Perrie’s headbands for the workout. 

“I think we’ve earned a beer break, yeah?” Niall asked, slipping into the kitchen for a handful of cold bottles. 

Louis took hold of their bottle, popping the cap off on their teeth. It shouldn’t have been sexy. Harry shouldn’t have been turned on by watching Louis put their teeth in jeopardy, but he was. To be honest, he was a bit embarrassed by it. He grabbed his own bottle with the hope of distracting himself. He anchored the edge of the cap on the coffee table, slamming his palm down to pop it open. Niall made a horrified sound before using a bottle opener for his own beer. 

“I’m friends with a couple of neanderthals. Can either of you be civilized for five fucking seconds?” Niall muttered, falling onto the couch with an irritated huff. 

“Sorry, Nialler, but I make no promises.” Louis replied, throwing their head back for a swig of beer. 

Harry just blew the other man a kiss, before throwing his long legs on top of Niall’s lap. 

After a few beers a piece, and a handful of Doritos shoved into Louis’ mouth, they started again. It was mostly them taking turns critiquing each other on their sharpness, trying their best to be as obnoxious as possible. 

The night finished with Niall inviting his current sugar daddy over to watch them perform. It was fun and Harry enjoyed watching how Niall got all flushed from the compliments the man gave him. 

Before things got too awkward, Louis pulled Harry out of the apartment and out to the parking lot. 

“Sorry about that, Haz. But, it’s for the best that we left before things got a bit too voyeuristic for my tastes.” Louis said, laughter coating their words. 

“Thanks for saving us the embarrassment then. Not sure I’m ready to see babydoll Niall in action. The thought of him being anything other than a fun-loving goofball is more than my delicate sensibilities can take.” Harry replied, leaning into Louis as they walked over to Harry’s truck. 

“Want me to drive? You look proper dead on your feet.” Louis said, arm wrapping around Harry’s waist to help him make the trek. 

“Shit, yeah! That’d be groovy. Thanks, Lou.” Harry muttered, voice soft and slow from how sleepy he was. 

He had no idea that dancing for that long would leave him so exhausted, but at least he’d be able to skip out on leg day the next time he hit the gym with Liam.

Harry fell asleep in the car, head resting on his arms on the center console. Every now and then he could feel Louis petting his damp curls, and it left him feeling more at ease. 

When they got back to Louis’ apartment, they helped Harry out of the car and up the stairs. 

“You’re too nice to me.” Harry mumbled, half asleep on Louis shoulder. 

Louis laughed, shouldering Harry into the apartment, before dragging him into their room. 

“You deserve it, Haz. You deserve all the nice things.” Louis replied, voice warm and deep in Harry’s ear. It left him shivering, giggling as Louis threw him onto the bed. “Now take off your shoes, and get under the covers.”

Harry did as he was asked, shucking off his shoes, socks, and jeans. He slipped under the comforter, snuggling into the pillow under his head. He tried to stay awake long enough for Louis to get into the bed as well, but it proved difficult. 

Louis slipped out of their clothing, changing into a fresh tee shirt, boxers clinging to their ass as they walked to turn the overhead light off. They crawled into the bed, laughing as Harry turned around and snuggled his back against Louis’ front.

“If you wanted to spoon you could have just asked.” Louis replied, wrapping their arms around Harry and running their nose along his clothed back.

Harry made a noncommittal sound, sighing as he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

***

It was Christmas Eve, and Harry was hanging outside on the street edge with Louis. The sidewalk was warm where his butt was sitting on it, legs bent with his arms around them. He rested his head against one knee, angling his head to watch Louis. 

They were carefully shoving quarters into a payphone, and counting audibly as they did. It was their birthday, which meant it was time for the monthly call home. Harry had asked multiple times why they only called once a month, especially because he could see how important talking to them was for Louis. But they insisted it was easier this way. 

Harry would probably never get it, seeing as he called Gemma at least once a week if not more. Louis, however, seemed to take talking to their family as a good thing and a bad thing in equal parts. 

It was obviously nice to check in, and see how their siblings were doing. Louis lit up as they spoke to each one for a bit. But, when their mom got on the phone, Harry could tell the difference. Louis looked so sad, like tears were imminent. It was odd. Louis had always spoken highly of their mom, but their face told a different tale. 

Harry tried to tune out what was being discussed, not wanting to intrude. He still wasn’t sure why Louis had even allowed him to witness this ritual. They didn’t even let the girls watch, hence why they were at a pay phone rather than at home. 

It was nice to just sit in the sunlight, watching cars zip by, faint haze of smog in the air. The sound of Louis’ voice droning on in the background left Harry feeling peaceful. He was still surprised by how warm the weather was in L.A. but it set the perfect scene for Louis’ soft melodic voice. 

Harry was half asleep when Louis finally hung up; no quarters left in their elegant hands. They walked in front of Harry with their knees blocking the view Harry had been looking at. 

“Get up, Haz. Time to go cuddle before Jade makes us open presents in the living room.”

With a put-upon sigh, Harry grabbed onto Louis’ legs. He hugged them close, not making any move to get up. 

“Harry, seriously, get up.” Louis muttered, flicking Harry in the head a few times for emphasis. 

“Lou,” he whined back. He was rubbing his face into the worn denim Louis was wearing. 

Louis made a kicking motion, but they weren’t able to move much. Harry’s arms were too strong for Louis to make any real impact. 

“Harry if you do not get up this instance, I’m not giving you your Christmas present.” Louis muttered, pressing their lips together tightly. 

With heavy limbs, Harry got up, using Louis for balance as he went. 

“Okay, okay, I’m up. Now let me lean on you. Too tired to walk upright.” Harry muttered, leaning into the shorter person and hiding his face in Louis’ neck. 

“You are absolutely the laziest fucker I have ever met,” Louis said, walking precariously so that Harry wouldn’t topple over. “And I’ve met Zayn.”

Harry giggled, still draped all over Louis. 

“Yeah, but you love me.” Harry replied, voice light from his continued laughter. 

He could feel Louis tense beneath him, steps a bit off kilter as they continued walking. It was weird and Harry felt like he’d done something wrong. Louis didn’t say anything as they walked up the street to the apartment complex, and Harry wished he hadn’t spoken. 

Once they got into the apartment, Harry stopped leaning against Louis. He patted Louis on the shoulder before heading over to Perrie and Leigh-Anne’s bedroom. 

“You can go nap without me, I need to talk to Perrie about something.” Harry muttered before knocking on the door in front of him. 

It sounded like Louis was walking towards him, but before he could send them away again the door opened. 

He slipped in, not bothering to say anything. He dived head first into the bed, shoving his head under a pillow. 

“Uh, Harry? What are you doing?” Leigh-Anne asked, picking up the pillow from his head.

“Hiding,” he responded. “Don’t let Lou in.” 

Perrie sighed, locking the door before climbing into bed with Harry and Leigh. 

“What’d they do this time, sugar?” Perrie asked, carding her fingers through Harry’s hair. 

He looked at Leigh-Anne, a slight frown visible on his face. 

“I made a joke and said that they loved me. And they got all stiff and weird like I made them uncomfortable.” He could feel tears coming, which was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be crying just because Louis didn’t take his joke well. And yet, here he was on the bed, looking up at Leigh-Anne and willing himself not to bawl like a baby. 

Perrie made a clucking noise with her tongue. 

“Harry, baby, we know you have a thing for them. And, you guys have come so far from where you used to be. You just have to give it some time, yeah? Louis hasn’t been in a serious relationship since Niall. They’ll come around.” Perrie said, still running her fingers through Harry’s curls soothingly. 

“Does that mean that they do love me?” Harry asked, making sad eyes at Leigh-Anne. 

“I think that they are interested in dating you, but you can’t rush them. Louis has to take things at their own pace.” Leigh replied. 

She moved down from where she had been sitting in order to cuddle up to Harry. Perrie watched and then copied the movement, spooning Harry from behind. 

“Things’ll work out, Haz, I promise. You just have to let time take its course.” Leigh murmured, wrapping her arms around Harry’s middle. 

They woke some time later, to a soft rapping on the door. 

“Hey guys, Jade’s getting antsy out here.” Louis said, voice muffled through the wood of the door. 

Harry groaned, stretching around the two girls in the bed. 

“Come on. Can’t leave Jade waiting.” He said, getting up off the bed. 

The trio left the room, following Louis to the living room. A very excited Jade was waiting by the tree, Santa hat cock-eyed on her head. She had a present already in her hands, bouncing from foot to foot excitedly. 

Louis sat down in the chair by the Christmas tree, and Harry decided to get over his hurt feelings by sitting in Louis’ lap. He laid down, head hanging off one arm, while his legs dangled off the other one. 

He could feel Louis stiffen under him, but as he looked up into their eyes, all he could see were the crinkles. They were smiling down at him, one hand moving to cradle his dangling head. 

It felt like progress. 

The night continued, each person opening their gifts and wishing Louis a chorus of happy birthdays. Harry enjoyed his friends’ gifts, packing them all into one gift bag, so that in the morning he had less to carry. 

He spent the majority of his night with Louis, soft murmuring voices almost inaudible over the air conditioner running faintly in the background. 

Harry sighed, unsure if he should bring up what happened after the phone call. He would never want to put Louis on the spot, but were going to be weird if he just ignored it. So, he decided to put his neck on the line, and try to communicate like an adult.

“Lou, if you don’t want me to joke around about that sort of thing I won’t. You got all awkward this morning after I made that joke about loving me. And, I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

His voice tapered off, waiting for Louis to reply.

“I, uh. I’m sorry about that. I just have never really been friends with someone who’s comfortable being that affectionate with me? Like I mean obviously the girls and I are kind of like that. But, I’ve never had a friend who was a guy that was okay with being like that with me?” Their voice is soft, and they sound hesitant to continue. 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can stop if it makes you upset. It’s no big deal, Louis. Your comfort is more important than my jokes.” Harry replied. “I can keep my hands to myself too if it would make you more comfortable?”

Louis reached and grabbed hold of Harry’s hand under the covers. They laced their fingers with Harry’s squeezing ever so slightly. 

“No, you don’t have to. It doesn’t really make me uncomfortable, I promise. I just haven’t had a friendship where it was like cool to be super affectionate? I’m just not used to it. Where I’m from doing girly shit like that would earn you an asskicking.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He’d always been very affectionate with his friends, although most of them were women. 

They sat there in silence, Harry trying to figure out what to say. He felt that there wasn’t really much he could say, and none of of it felt like it mattered. Rather than sticking his foot in his mouth a second time, he decided to pull their entwined hands up to his face and plant a kiss to them. 

Harry drifted off to sleep with his and Louis’ hands still pressed against his cheek. 

***

Louis stayed up long after Harry’s shallow breaths had morphed into deep snuffles. They felt slightly bad for lying straight to Harry’s face. They had been a part of plenty of friendships with men where they had been highly affectionate. 

However, with Harry it was different. 

They didn’t just want to be friends. They wanted so much more than that. By letting Harry hold their hand, and cuddle with them, they were just getting more attached. 

Louis could see their future together with Harry and every day the feeling got stronger. They’d freaked so bad when he’d said that they loved him because it was true. Louis had fallen in love with Harry somewhere along the way. They’d been ignoring it, pushing the revelation as deep down in their brain as they could. However, Harry had ruined all that when he’d made that joke. 

There was no way for Louis to stop the thoughts that flickered behind their eyelids in the dark bedroom. It was like a montage of all the things that Louis couldn’t possibly keep. There was no way Harry was interested in them. Harry only wanted to be friends. 

They’d have to talk to the girls tomorrow after Harry left. There was no way they could continue being friends with Harry if that was all they were going to be. It was too painful to feel the phantom of a relationship that would never exist. 

Maybe Jesy would be able to cajole them into actually making a move, or Leigh-Anne might give them advice on what to wear. Perrie always knew what to say in a sticky situation, and Jade was such a hopeless romantic. 

They’d give it their best try. They’d ask Harry out and try to be more than just friends. And if he said yes, then all of Louis’ issues were null and void. But, if he said no, then Louis was fucked. They hadn’t been interested in getting laid in over a year. If Harry was no longer a viable option, they’d just have to settle for their hand. Of course it would be super awkward to beat off to Harry when he wasn’t interested in reciprocating. Louis’d cross that bridge if he came to it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to hit me up on tumblr @tippingbrandy ~~ I haven't actually completed this story. It's halfway written, but I wanted to go ahead and post it as motivation to complete it.


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